A forced Holiday
by MissPiony
Summary: AU. Molly likes to have control over things, her work and the love life she has chosen to keep non-existent. What will happen when her boss forces her to go on holiday and there is undeniable chemistry with a dark stranger? Fluffy feelgood in chicklit style probably describes this best. Can be enjoyed without having seen Our Girl.
1. Worse than a forced installation

**_A/N: So, I made a promise to myself; until I have finished ongoing stories, I will only write one-shots and the side-project with TriadWriters (which I enjoy immensely). I don't like to leave things unfinished, but to be able to continue Replay I have to re-read the whole thing, so it may take some time before anything is published. Currently on holiday in Spain which may sound as I have plenty of time to write but the little ones demand attention :) That is anyway what triggered the idea for this story, a bit of holiday fun. If you want to see where I'm sending Molly in this one, I posted a few pics on my Twitter (MissPiony). Hope you enjoy!_**

**_P.S. True to my habit a one-shot seems to develop into more, three chapters I think. All outlined in my head to be published as soon as I have time to put it in writing_**.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Worse than a forced installation**

* * *

You know when your office computer alerts you that a software has been updated or installed, because the guys in the IT department thought it would improve things, but you're just confused because you knew how things looked and worked before and now suddenly you don't. Sometimes you get an e-mail in advance telling you about the new functionality, ending with '_Don't worry, this will be a forced installation_', but exactly that worries me because I like to have things under control.

Now something even worse happened. My boss took it one step further and introduced _forced holiday_. I don't think it is very common that your boss forces you to go on a bloody holiday, but mine apparently does. I have the best boss in the world and I don't want to sound ungrateful, but this time she is wrong. I don't need an annual leave. I don't want to go on a holiday, I want to work.

This morning, my boss, Anna Steele, called me into her office. As her name fittingly suggests, she is one of the sharpest business women in the country. Successful, extremely clever, hard but fair and I'm a big fan. By a stroke of luck I have been her PA for three years and these years have taught me more than all the years in school combined. When I entered her office today, she had a worried crease between her brows. I have learned that can imply many different things; a deal not going as expected, one of her employees not living up to her high standards or her morning coffee was too cold when I handed it to her. Though in all fairness the latter has not happened since I was a rookie here, I'm a quick learner. Today the cause of the crease was none of the above.

"Molly, I'm looking through the office annual leave calendar."

She referred to the Excel file I have set up on SharePoint and instructed everyone to mark the days when they request to have time off, so we can ensure we always are covered to run the business smoothly. Maybe people have planned too much leave this year and that is why she is worried.

"Yes? Is there a problem?"

"I don't see that you have marked which days you will be on leave?"

"Oh, that. It's because I haven't planned any time off. I will work through summer, keep things going", I proudly beamed at her.

To my surprise, the crease between her brows deepened and she looked at me seriously.

"No, you won't", she then stated flatly.

I instantly got anxious. She could not be planning to fire me, could she? We work so well together, and everyone calls me the glue of this office, the one who holds all the small things together, so she can deal with the big business without any friction. I'm giving everything, every single day at work. Not because anyone forces me, but because I want to.

"Molly, you're a star and I wouldn't know what to do without you..."

Internal sigh of relief.

"...and you're working harder than most people in this office even if a few of the lads don't realise it."

Exactly. Like Ian in Accounting who keeps glaring at my bum whenever I have it turned to him and always asks if I can bring him coffee, as if I don't have better things to do. Or Steve in Legal who once asked if I wanted to join him in the copy room and close the door, as if I don't have an intriguing sex life outside of work (which I don't but he doesn't know that, I _could_ have). In his defence he was slightly drunk after one too many glasses of punch when we had a little office Christmas celebration and he had a crush on me but was normally too shy to ask me out. I had wilfully ignored it because I wasn't interested and kindly rejected the copy room offer too. Afterwards he pretended it never happened and now he has another girlfriend. I wouldn't mix work with romance and as I work most of the time there is very little space for romance, but I don't mind.

"Thank you."

"Which is why I want you to take some time off."

"What? No. Why?"

"No need to panic, it's a holiday I'm suggesting, not a punishment. You need to re-charge your batteries just like everyone else even if you don't think so. Did you know that a lot of people who suffer from burnout actually enjoyed their work very much? They just worked too hard for too long and burned their fuse from two ends."

But I _do_ feel a wave of panic, or at least intense stress, build inside me. My job is everything to me, I need it.

"If anything, the panicked look you have on your face right now tells me you really need annual leave. Molly, you are 22. Though I appreciate and admire your dedication to your job, you're young and there should be other things in your life too. Fun, friends, romance."

"I have friends. I can be fun."

"I know that, but how often do you allow yourself to relax and have fun?"

There was this time in February when Jackie and I got rat-arsed drinking cocktails in that new bar and I actually gave my number to a cute guy when he asked. Then I refused to answer any unknown numbers for weeks, in case it was him. I'm not ready for a relationship.

"The fact that you need to think to be sure when you last had fun tells me it has been too long, and as for romance... you haven't dated one single time since you started working for me."

Normally that should not be the concern of your boss, but we met under special circumstances.

"You know why."

"I know your history, Molly, but I don't understand why you let it dictate your life more than three years later. I think it's time you let that go. Not every guy is an asshole."

The night Anna and I first met, she, her husband and some friends of theirs were strolling home after a theatre show when she spotted me sitting crying on the pavement. She is fierce in business but also very kind hearted and went over and crouched beside me and patted my back, asked what the matter was. I told her that it was my eighteenth birthday, but my life sucked so much I was thinking of ensuring it would be my last.

"It can't be _that_ bad, can it?"

"No? I just walked in on my boyfriend shagging my mate, I have a shit job in a nail bar and live with my mum and dad and all my siblings in a shabby little council house and all I want is to get away from here, but I have no money and no education to take me anywhere. Most people don't even think I can talk properly. Look at me! No one will ever give me a chance. If I was given half a chance I would take it", I sobbed.

She looked at me searchingly, as if she was deliberating internally.

"Are you willing to work hard?"

"Yes."

"Then I will give you a chance. Here is my card. Come to my office on Monday and I will give you a job. A month's trial period first and if you do well you can continue."

I stared at her in shock as she got to her feet. Did she really mean it?

"Oh, and I suggest you put on a skirt with, let's say, a little more material to it. Otherwise I think you may receive attention for the wrong reasons."

I couldn't believe it was true. My boyfriend and my best friend had broken my heart in a joint effort that evening and now a kind stranger was offering me a way out of misery. I had taken it, grasped it and held on to it hard. Monday morning I went to that flashy office, dressed in a knee-length skirt and blouse and she gave me a job as assistant PA. I took the opportunity seriously and gave everything I had. My trial month was prolonged to a permanent position and when Suzy, the regular PA, one year later quit to move to the country after having taught me everything she knew, Anna promoted me, and I have been her sole PA since. I love my job and I have cleverly avoided heartbreaks since, simply by avoiding dating.

"Not _every_ guy perhaps, but many, and I want to keep my eyes on the ball, not let you down."

"I'm sure you won't even if you allow yourself to have a bit more of a private life. In fact, I think it will do you good. Everyone needs a healthy work life balance. I'm so convinced it will, that I'm ordering you to take annual leave."

"But..."

"No buts!" She held up her hand to silence me and I knew I had lost the battle. "I will be off two weeks starting next Monday. You will not set your foot in this office during those two weeks, is that understood?"

What, two full weeks?! What will I do?

"Yes." Was all I obediently said.

"London isn't the best place to be on a hot summer's day so I suggest you book yourself a trip somewhere nice and if I don't pay you well enough to cover that, here's a little summer bonus. You have deserved it."

With a big smile she handed me an envelope.

"All I want in return is that you tell me about your holiday when we return."

Truth was she was already paying me more than enough for me to be able to afford a holiday, even if I rented a nice flat with Jackie and allowed myself a decent wardrobe. I had picked up a few things about dressing well from Anna and the cheap mini-skirt she first had seen me in was long gone. The bonus was a generous gift, but it was also a clever way of forcing me to book a trip. I knew I couldn't refuse.

"Okay."

"You _could_ sound more enthusiastic you know."

"I'm not used to that much free-time, to focus on me."

"Maybe it's about time that you do. I dare say the office will survive two weeks without any of us", she finished the conversation with a smirk.

* * *

This evening, Jackie and I are seated in our sofa, equipped with laptop, wine (lots of it) and crisps; ready to browse for holiday trips. If I _must_ do this, I will do it properly and find the best holiday possible.

Jackie was absolutely thrilled when I told her Anna was making me not only take time off but go away on holiday.

"That's brilliant! I love your boss! I would never have been able to convince you, you little workaholic." She manages to say that combining reproach and affection.

Jackie had already planned to have a few weeks off but only scheduled activities for the last, so she was free and more than happy to go travelling with me. Thank God, because worse than being forced to go on holiday would be to go alone.

I got to know Jackie three months after I started working for Anna, when I saw a note outside Starbucks when picking up my boss' coffee, saying a girl my age was looking for someone to share a flat with (and creepy single guys need not bother to call). We immediately hit it off, moved in together and became best friends. We are rather complementing one another well than being similar and we have shared everything these years. I wonder if it ever could be as easy with a man.

"Where should we go then? New York maybe? Always wanted to go there, go sightseeing and shopping, drink Cosmopolitans."

"You drink Cosmopolitans here already."

"Yeah, but it would be different in the city of 'Sex and the City'."

"Really? Anyway, the purpose of the trip is to relax. You won't do that in New York in summer."

"I'm not sure I'm that good at relaxing..."

"You're not. That's why you need to practise! I get it, your boss gets it, now it's time for you to accept it. We need somewhere sunny and warm and where there's a nice beach and drinks with little umbrellas. Just pick a place"

"I don't know, South of France?"

"They don't speak English there, do they?"

"I think they do, but I'm not sure they want to. Proud French and all that."

"Plus they eat snails and frog legs, don't want that on the menu."

She shuddered, and I resisted telling her they for sure ate French fries too, even if it seemed likely they only called them fries.

"Okay, Greece then?"

"Zorba."

"What?"

"They would make us dance that zorba dance. You know where you hold on to each other's shoulders in a long line and do funny things with your feet. Made me do that when I was there on a charter with my family when I was 13. Worst age to be subjected to involuntary line dancing. Traumatised for life!"

"Okay, so besides sun and beaches you want a place with no strange food or dancing?"

"Somewhere with beautiful men to look at would be nice too... dark strangers. I wouldn't mind me a Latino lover", Jackie added with a dreaming eyes, making me giggle.

"I think I'll leave the dark strangers to you, but how about Spain then? Should be plenty of dark strangers there."

"Do they speak English?"

"For Christ's sake Jackie, people speak English almost anywhere. Anyway, are you sure it's _talking_ you want to do if you stumble upon one of those dark strangers? I didn't think that was the purpose of a holiday fling."

Her dreamy expression was gone, and she suddenly looked very alert.

"Spot on! That's also why such a fling would be ideal for you! Think of it Molly, this may be the perfect opportunity for you to get over your ex. About bloody time."

"I'm over Artan", I muttered.

"Are you? I know you don't have feelings for him, but I haven't seen you let anyone else near you after him. I never met the guy but dislike him profoundly and he is so not worth you living in celibacy. A good shag with no strings attached is exactly what you need to get back in the saddle again."

I almost snorted out wine on the laptop.

"Stop it Jackie! No Latino lover for me, but Spain sounds fine anyway. Now let's see what we can find."

In the end we book a trip to the south of Spain. We will fly to Malaga and then take a cab East to Nerja where we have rented an apartment for ten days. Nerja promise to be a picturesque little town with many beaches, restaurants and a few clubs, more genuinely Spanish than Marbella and Puerto Banus. I have the feeling that 22 year-olds may not be the main target customer group for Nerja tourism, but it may suit the two of us fine for the relaxed vacay Anna and Jackie seem to be convinced I'm in need of.

I don't think either of them realise, but the truth is I'm terrified. After my boyfriend screwed my best friend and Anna offered me a way out, I took it and never looked back, never let myself pause to think or feel, just strived to get somewhere better. I didn't cut my family off, nothing so dramatic and I love the crazy bunch, but I left Newham, left my old friends and focused on my job and the new people I got to know. I haven't allowed myself to have regrets about the past or fall in love again. If I relax, maybe I will start to think too much and who knows what the consequences of that might be. Maybe something I don't have control over, something worse than a forced installation.


	2. A crush isn't for me

**_A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews!_**

**_So, Molly and Jackie are off to a favourite place of mine. If you are on holiday, I hope the story will keep you in the right spirit. If you aren't, I hope I can take you there for a little while._**

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**Chapter 2: A crush isn't for me**

* * *

"Isn't this just lovely?"

Jackie lets out a sigh filled with contentment and I have to admit she is right. This _is _lovely.

We have been in Nerja a week now and I have entered into leisurely holiday mode. The first day I freaked out due to lack of appointments to keep track of, tasks to organise or crises to efficiently deal with, but then the sun and sangria got to me and now I'm as lazy and relaxed as a true Spanish.

Our daily routine is far from my regular busy one. We sleep in thanks to the air con and the blinds turning the room pitch black, then walk the few steps to the small _Playa de Calahonda_ close to our apartment. We made a mistake the first day when we chose to go to the huge, crowded_ Playa Buriana_, found it seriously over-rated and wondered if we had lapsed in judgement coming here, but then we found this little gem of a beach with only a few sun beds and just enough people to watch and gossip about to keep things interesting.

After improving our tan for a few hours, we get our daily dose of exercise climbing up the steep stairs to the restaurant above the beach. On their terrace facing the Mediterranean Sea, we enjoy the fantastic view, a salad, seafood or pasta accompanied by a caña Sangria. Correction; I alternate between dishes, Jackie has _Salade Niçoise _every day and always finishes off by saying:

"I just _love_ Spanish food."

And every time I point out to her that _Salade Niçoise _is in fact French, so maybe we should have_ g_one to South of France after all, but then she takes a swig of sangria and says that the sangria alone made it worth coming here. I have to agree.

After lunch we return down to the beach for a siesta in the shadow before we trot home on flip-flop clad feet, to freshen up for dinner and drinks out. Next day we repeat the procedure. Life is very easy.

Despite all this spare time, I'm surprisingly enough not overthinking things, as I feared I might. I feel like I rather have adapted the Spanish '_mañana_ attitude'. You know, anything difficult can be postponed until tomorrow and hopefully someone else takes care of it before you get to it (not that I have encountered any specific challenges here except what to pick on the tapas menu or deciding if I still need SPF 30 or safely can change to 20 or even dare 10.) The other day I was pondering if maybe I should move here, just let go of my life at home, stop being so bloody serious. Then I glanced at Jackie, busy buying a new sarong, unaware of what went on inside my head and I realised if I left UK permanently she would have to find another flat mate and endure an endless number of weirdos applying to be the one. Next, I remembered I would let Anna down; the office would never be the same without me, probably completely disorganised, and it would be very ungrateful to ditch her after all she has done for me. On top of that, Nan would have nobody to join her on Bingo Sunday. I could never do that to them, I'm simply too needed and too loyal to be wild and crazy. No, I'm not staying here, but I must admit that holiday is far more addictive than I expected.

Of course Jackie met a guy already on the second day, Manuel, or Manolo as everyone calls him. Normally he goes to uni in Madrid but he is home for the summer, working in his family's big tapas restaurant, _El Pulguilla_. That is where the two set eyes on each other whilst Jackie and I enjoyed their selection of tapas. When the handsome Spanish waiter appeared at our table, she was all smiles and he wasn't late to return them. She willingly ordered the _calamares fritos_ he recommended, her reluctance towards strange food completely forgotten, and he asked us both to join him for drinks in a bar when his shift was over, even if it was apparent he only had eyes for the blonde Jackie. We had fun and they got along really well. I mean _really_ well, like snogging-with-tongues-halfway-down-each-others'-throats-before-the-evening was-over-well, so now they meet up every night when he has quit work.

To Jackie's relief Manolo speaks quite good English, but he confirmed what we already had noticed, that the level of English skills differs between folks here. He said old people and even some of the younger ones who have not gone to uni or simply didn't bother learning may know very little, especially since all movies and TV series are dubbed to Spanish so English is fully possible to avoid. We told him we had had to resort to body language buying vegetables at the market and he laughingly said he would very much have liked to see that. Anyway, Jackie found the holiday fling she had hoped for and I'm satisfied going home to my rented bed alone when she stays out late, snogging Manolo, joining me a few hours later.

* * *

I sit up on my sun bed. I have been sleeping for a while, lulled by the sound of the waves and now need to drink some water. It's important to re-hydrate not to get a headache, so I ensure both Jackie and I do regularly, but right now she is asleep. As I take a few gulps of bottled water, I let my gaze travel over the people on the beach. There are lots of Brits and Swedes here, but also a mix of other nationalities and I enjoy guessing who's who by their looks and then eavesdrop to them talking to see if I was right. I pride myself in that I most often am, right I mean. Nationalities aside there are all sorts, from families with small kids to elderly couples. Some of them are recurrent visitors like us, who come here every day and we have enjoyed ourselves naming some of them.

There are the Spanish Studs; a group of barely 20-year old boys, proudly showing off muscular torsos and revealing a little too much of their package for my taste, wearing tiny speedos. I don't want to look at their crotch but it's very difficult to avoid when flaunted as they play football or wrestle each other in the water.

There are those who look absolutely amazing in their swimwear, like the curvy, bronzed woman we call Wonder Woman, who achieves looking sensual every time she gingerly puts on sun lotion, gets in or out of the water or takes a shower. Even as a heterosexual woman I'm in awe and not a little bit jealous of her beauty. The young studs are gawping of course, puffing their chests a little extra and try to catch her eye, but she seems too pre-occupied with how _she_ looks and taking selfies to even notice them.

Then there are others who more resemble a fat boiled lobster that has crawled up on the beach, glaring red and obviously uninformed about the invention sunscreen, but well-equipped with crisps and beer. The dad in the Flabby Family is definitely a lobster.

I'm slightly ashamed that Flabby Family are Brits because they are the most annoying bunch on this beach. Every day they bring tons of things; huge inflatable toys, buckets and spades, plastic trucks, cool bags with food and drink and a pile of big blankets and spread it all over the place. The four ugly, chubby kids with identical blunt noses are either fighting or whining constantly, whilst the mum is picking on them and the overweight dad is sleeping through it all, turning more and more into a bright red lobster. Only time he looks up is to have a beer, eat or to give the kids a bollocking when they happen to splash sand on him.

I think I'm something in between the best and the worst on this beach; hardly a swimsuit model but my figure isn't half bad either. I'm short and slender, I guess nice people would call me petite. When I looked myself in the full-length mirror yesterday, I realised that _if_ I had wished to flirt with successful outcome, now would probably be a good time because I'm actually prettier than ever. After a few days on the beach I'm looking fresh; slightly bronzed, with a few freckles on my nose. My eyes seem greener than usual against the tan and my long, dark hair has lighter streaks from the sun and salt water. I don't have any such intentions though. Holiday or not, I'm not up for neither a flirt nor a relationship.

Suddenly I almost choke on my bottled water, as my wandering eyes get stuck in a pair of brown ones staring back at me and my breath hitch. _Jesus fucking Christ he is beautiful! _This new guy is in a whole different league than everyone else on the beach, except maybe Wonder Woman. We're not in Greece but he really makes me think of a Greek god. Not that I remember the name of any, but he seems to tick off all the divine tick boxes except he isn't equipped with a trident. He must be a local because his skin has the deep brown tan you only get from many months in the sun (and very fee Brits get that kind of tan no matter how long we stay in the sun, it's more likely we would turn into a giant raisin than ever achieve that skin tone). His skin is shimmering, almost golden, and looks so smooth. He isn't overly hairy, which I like. Just a small amount on his chest and a dark trail on his flat stomach, that continues down into his low-slung bathing trunks. (No speedos there, not sure if I'm disappointed or not in this case, but at least it implies good taste). He has no excess subcutaneous fat, in its place lean muscles. Oh, those biceps, that torso, his abs, I bet his arse too if I only could get a good look at it, are all just so perfect that I want to touch him. Or maybe take a bite of him. As if he knows what I'm thinking, he flashes me a big grin, revealing very even teeth, pearl white against his tan and his beautiful eyes seem to twinkle with amusement. His features are perfectly chiselled, with high cheekbones, straight nose and a determined chin. I'm sure he can look completely sternfaced if he wants to but right now he only looks mischievous as he challenging meets my eyes. I look away, feel myself flush with embarrassment and hope my, compared to his, modest tan is enough to hide it. As soon as I avert my gaze, I want to look at him again, as if he was a freaking magnet and it takes a fair amount of will-power not to. After a minute or so I do allow myself to look at him again, only to find him watching me still, or again, I don't know which but either way it makes me hot through and through. I have to glance behind me just to check Wonder Woman isn't there splashing water over herself or taking off her bikini top to sunbathe topless and it is actually _her_ he is watching, but no, there is nobody special there. I look at him again, he still looks, still smiles and once again I drop my gaze with heart thumping in my chest.

Jackie is fast asleep, oblivious to her surroundings and even snoring slightly. She's missing out on something, though I don't really mind having this moment to myself. If he notices her with her blonde hair, he may not look at me anymore.

I'm not looking directly at him again, but I peep at him from the corner of my eye as he now makes himself comfortable on his sun bed. When he moves to lie down, his muscles are flexing and I realise he is ridiculously fit. The sun is casting reflexes in his dark, shiny hair and I want to pull my fingers through it. _Pull him to me_. I feel a surge of want go through my body. When did that happen last? When did it _ever_ happen to me? Well, probably it happens to every woman who sets eyes on him.

Even when I lie down again and close my eyes I can't let go. I'm terribly curious about him. How old is he? Definitely older than me, maybe thirty even, looking so much more mature than the Spanish Studs. Is he is a local or not? I want to know. I feel a bit like a private eye, secretly watching him to try to find out more and appreciating the view in the process. Clear blue sky, turquoise water and in between a sandy beach with a drop dead gorgeous bloke displayed on it. I'm not complaining, though it still disturbs me to admit that Anna and Jackie were right that holiday was a good idea.

Ten minutes of discrete stalking later I get confirmation he _is_ Spanish. Pepe, the man who runs this little beach, has sun beds and umbrellas for hire, is walking around checking up on things, making sure people are not blocking the paths with their stuff (Flabby Family always does). When he passes Gorgeous Guy, said guy agilely gets to his feet and the two happily greet each other like old friends, with a quick stream of Spanish words whilst patting each other's backs. I have no clue what they say but have heard enough Spanish to tell that his sounds like it is his native language. The question is, does he speak English? Good to know in the highly unlikely event I would be brave enough to strike a conversation, even if I wouldn't mind if a conversation with him ended up using body language. Preferably in horizontal position. Shit, I'm blushing again just at the thought. Fortunately he was occupied chatting to Pepe.

In front of Gorgeous Guy, who now is lying down again, the Flabby Family have positioned themselves today. It impossible not to notice them, not to hear them even if I try to block them out. I miss just hearing the waves rolling and the more discrete chatter from others. They certainly disturb the peace more than anyone. Suddenly one of the boys throws a ball at Gorgeous Guy who quick as a flash sits up to check what hit him. I quite admire the speed of his reaction and allow myself a smirk wondering what the kid is in for. The mum takes her son by the elbow and brusquely pulls him with her to apologise to Gorgeous Guy, but he looks more bothered by her barking than by the ball and just shrugs his shoulders which is sort of credit to him. When the mum rambles on he just stares at her with a blank expression, throws them the ball and finally interrupts her;

"No entiendo, pero usted me molesta más que su hijo. Por favor déja me en paz."

Obviously he doesn't understand a word she says, which is a blessing for him but I can't help feeling disappointed. He doesn't speak English. She doesn't understand his words either but his authoritative voice is enough to convey the message that he wants her to piss off and deflated she returns to their blanket. The kids seem to have picked up the message too and lower their voices. Suddenly his eyes meet mine again and he is smirking conspiratorially, knowing exactly what effect he had on the family and damn he is hot. I'm so drawn to him I'm surprised I'm still seated on my sunbed and not levitating to him, but he just lies down again and closes his eyes.

Jackie wakes up ten minutes later. By then the family has left to buy ice cream and the beach is peaceful.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Flabby Family making a spectacle of themselves and a totally gorgeous Spanish guy."

"Really? Oh no. I mean I don't care about the family, but the guy. Molly, are you saying you actually checked someone out?"

"I don't know if I 'checked him out' exactly. He's nice to look at."

"You're blushing! You were totally checking him out! Did you even flirt? Tell me!"

"He's still over there so you can have a look for yourself." I nod discretely towards his perfect outstretched form.

"Where? Oh... Shit he's so close, he can hear us." Now she hisses instead of talking in normal voice.

"Don't worry, he doesn't understand one word of English."

"Well, then I have to agree. He is _very_ good-looking. That body, that tan."

"You haven't even seen his eyes or his smile."

"You mean to say you were able to pay attention to _that_ when there were those abs?!"

"Strangely enough, even if his body is amazing, I like his eyes and smile even more."

"Christ, I think you have a crush on him Molly."

"Noooo."

"Why not?"

"You know me, I don't do crushes. It's not my thing."

"But you're on holiday and I think you do. You totally fancy him!"

"I don't. He's nice to look at and that's all."

"Come on, admit it! If he invited you to his bed you would jump right in!"

"I'll admit nothing of the sort. Just because there's a good-looking guy on the beach, it doesn't mean I want him. I'm not that desperate."

Jackie giggles and I can see she doesn't believe me.

I suddenly get the feeling he is listening to our conversation even if his eyes are closed. A smile is playing on his lips. Lucky he doesn't understand what we say but maybe he senses we're talking about him anyway.

To prove my point of not caring one bit to Jackie and to end this derailed conversation, I lie down and close my eyes. I mean to show her that abstaining feasting on the sight of him is easily done. I see him in my mind though, until I doze off for a while. When I wake up he is gone, much to my disappointment.


	3. It is hard work to look good

**Chapter 3: It's hard work to look good**

* * *

"Oi, Molly! A penny for them?"

I'm startled when Jackie brings me back from my reverie.

If I compare Gorgeous Guy's lithe frame to the bulgier Spanish Studs' (that's what I'm busy doing in my mind, I haven't actually _seen_ him again), I'm thinking that unlike theirs, _his_ body looks like it is fit for a purpose. Not like he has worked out in the gym all winter just to impress chicks on the beach. His lean muscles look natural and he seems more at ease with them because they are not there for show. He is probably working with something where he uses his body. A fisherman? Constructing buildings? Moving homes, lifting heavy furniture? I kind of like the thought of a fisherman, all masculine and in tune with nature, but on the other hand he might smell fish every day when he came home. If one had a common home, that is. I'm not obsessing, I'm just naturally curious about people. Okay, I admit a little more than average curious when it comes to him and it is not the first time Jackie has had to call me back to Earth this evening.

"You're thinking about him. Again."

It's not even a question and she is totally amused. I busy myself sucking up some olive oil with a piece of bread.

"Just wondering what type of guy he is." I say casually.

"I bet he has a wonderful... personality."

The way she made that little pause, I know she's thinking about more physical attributes.

"He might have a wonderful personality", I say indignantly.

"Like very smart and generous... and big." Now she bursts into fits of giggles.

"I'm not thinking of _that_!"

"No, are you _really_ not?"

I blush because I do. For the first time in years I'm wondering what it would be like if he touched me. If I was under him and... Christ, I have to stop this. I'm having dinner and shouldn't be yearning for an unattainable man. I return my focus to my tasty Pasta frutti de mare.

"Anyway, we're only here two days more so it's not likely that I see him again."

I hope there is a finality to my words that will end the topic. I know Jackie finds this hilarious but I'm well out of my comfort zone talking, or even thinking, about this. At least for my own part, I'm happy to hear her tales about the marvellous Manolo and when I encourage her she is glad to share. She is really smitten with him, but I'm not worried. She will be sad to leave him when we go home, but Jackie has the kind of pragmatic heart that heals easily. Sometimes I wish I did too.

"Manolo told me, that in Spanish 'Te _quiero_' means both 'I love you' and 'I want you'. Think of it, it's genius! If you want to try the waters with a guy, test if he loves you, you can say 'Te quiero' and if he doesn't take it well you can pretend you just were in the mood for sex and save yourself from embarrassment."

"I dunno, sounds a bit shit to me."

"Why?! It's brilliant. I mean it works the other way around too. If you're only interested in sleeping with a guy, want to keep him for now but not really commit, you can say the words without lying."

"Seems like semantics to me. I guess I would like to know if someone was in love with me or simply is horny. I wouldn't want him to play me with words and I don't think I would want to play him."

"Oh, Molly. You're just the sweetest."

She looks at me like I'm a puppy. I'm not. I'm harder than that, my life before I started working for Anna certainly taught me to be, but I like honesty. I like to know what's what. And I guess that in the end, some day, I want _real_ love.

* * *

Next morning we break our lazy routine and go for a power walk before breakfast, before it gets too hot. After all, we did pack our trainers and sportswear in breathable fabric and don't want that to be a waste of luggage space. A lot of people are exercising this time of day and considering how fit Gorgeous Guy was, it shouldn't come as a total surprise that he is one of them. Yet my heart skips a beat as he comes jogging, no, rather running towards us on the long _Playa Buriana_, this time in white, sweaty t-shirt and shorts, with a film of perspiration on his skin. Honestly, how is it possible to look so sexy whilst running? I have seen myself in the mirror running on the treadmill down at the gym and I look nothing like this. If ever there was a moment when slow-mo was justified, this is it. I have to make sure I'm not gawping. Nope, mouth closed, and I even manage to return the nod and smile he bestows me as we pass each other (at least I nod, I'm too surprised to smile). He recognised me! My heart is out of my chest and I hope I look fit in my power walk attire. Shit, maybe Jackie is right, and I _do_ have a crush on him. A silly, superficial crush based only on his looks. Did I leave my good sense back in the UK? I know Jackie would argue that is what holiday is all about, but I don't see why one would want to be less in control of one's emotions just because one is in a foreign country. 'Keep calm and carry on', that's what us Brits are about, isn't it?

I have to turn after him though, and as I suspected he has a delicious arse. Damn.

* * *

Later, we are chilling on our favourite beach. Or, Jackie is chilling. I feel more like a periscope stretching my neck to try to have overview of the beach. I have (very casually) looked for him since we arrived, but not seen him up to now. Today, we have sunbeds closer to the water and suddenly I feel Jackie pushing my side.

"Look!" she hisses.

I look up just in time to see him emerge out of the water. I have no idea how he got there but it doesn't really matter. This is so ridiculous, like something from a movie. Another moment when I would like slow-mo or maybe pause completely. The sun plays on his smooth skin and hard muscles, water is dripping, his dark hair curls when it is wet and his biceps flexes so beautifully as he raises a hand to rake through it and push it away from his eyes. Needless to say, the water glitters in the sun.

I can't believe I'm this silly, that the looks of a man has this effect on me. If I had been a 16-year old school girl still, but now I'm a 22-year old highly efficient PA to a top business woman. I don't feel like this, I don't behave like this. I'm in control, always cool as a cucumber. I refuse to have a racing heart, flushing body and sweaty palms just because some guy comes out of the water after a swim. I'm unable to tear away from the sight though and suddenly his eyes meet mine and I know that despite all my good intentions I'm lost. Holiday crush -1, Molly -0.

It is hard to relax when you have a crush and you know he _might_ be watching you. Before he appeared I never thought of what I looked like when I went into the water. Now I try to tread gracefully, suck in my belly even if I know it is flat as it is and not wince like I usually do when the water reaches said belly, instead dive in with dignity. Aiming for mermaid but feel myself plummet smoothly as a refrigerator instead. When I put on more sun lotion I try to mimic Wonder Woman, doing it in slow sensual circles until Jackie asks what's wrong with me and I think fuck this and splash it on in my usual manner. Sensuality obviously isn't me. I skipped eating water melon because I know I would get nervous and drip it all over my white bikini if I thought he was looking.

"But you love water melon?" Jackie said incredulously.

"I feel a bit bloated", was the lame excuse I came up with. Thank God he doesn't understand English or he would have thought my insides were filled with farts wanting to come out any moment.

All this is quite demanding, so when he leaves the beach after lunch I'm both relieved and disappointed. Relieved I can relax again, disappointed because I miss his tall athletic frame and amazing eyes. He _did_ flash me another smile before he left though and even if he must have observed Jackie by now, the smile seemed to be directed at me. Even Jackie thought so. I wasn't 100 % sure so I only answered with half a shy smile, not to make a fool of myself. Funny, I haven't seen him looking at Wonder Woman once. Not even when she walked by him topless with her extremely perky tits. He just turned around and started reading a book. I like him more and more.

* * *

This evening we go out for dinner again, Jackie and me. We only have this evening and one more to go before we fly home. I thought I would long for the day but now I don't. Jackie is to meet up with Manolo after he has ended his shift. She has offered me to join them, but I think the two lovebirds deserve some alone time. Just because I don't plan for a holiday fling I won't stop her. We spend so much time together anyway, almost like an old couple.

Halfway through the meal I feel someone watching me and look up. It is Gorgeous Guy, more gorgeous than ever in a white linen shirt with a few buttons unbuttoned to give me a glimpse of that tanned toned chest. He seems to be having dinner alone. Again, he smiles friendly when our eyes meet. Must he seem so lovely? I would never dare to approach him and if I did we couldn't talk anyway. This is better, just enjoying watching him at a safe distance. At least that's what I try to tell myself, but I'm kidding no one. I crave him. Even more with clothes on than without actually, because his effortlessly well-dressed style enhances how handsome he is. Why is a guy like him alone?

I have lost my appetite. The food doesn't taste anything and I'm too preoccupied worrying about how I look when I eat and what he is doing now. He is actually eating and having a glass of red wine, nothing wrong with his appetite apparently, and every now and then he looks at me. I focus on drinking my wine. And looking at him every now and then without being too obvious.

"I think he fancies you." Jackie says with her mouth full, she couldn't care less what he thinks of her eating.

"Jackie, look at him. No, don't turn around! I meant figuratively speaking. A guy like him doesn't fancy a girl like me. I'm the kind of girl who gets screwed over by her boyfriend and best friend on her birthday, that's who I am."

"No, you're not!" she says with a sudden flash of anger in her eyes. "_He_ was a shitty boyfriend and _she_ was the worst kind of friend and what they did defines _them_, not you! You're the bestest friend I have, funny, kind, smart and loyal, okay sometimes you take things a bit serious but other than that you're just the best. And you're really pretty, surely you must know that Molly? For God's sake just look yourself in the mirror, you're stunning tonight."

I know she is my friend and just trying to cheer me up and boost my confidence, but if she even thinks half of that about me, I'm really quite touched.

"Oh, thanks Jacks. I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, just flirt with the bloke and see what happens."

During her speech I absentmindedly put a large slice of Serrano ham in my mouth. I have this thing, that I don't like when meaty things get too meaty. To my dismay I feel the Serrano has turned into a tough ball of meat. Very meaty. I chew and chew, but I know I will gag if I try to swallow.

"What's wrong?" Jackie wonders.

I glance at Gorgeous Guy. He isn't looking at me right now, but I swear the moment I try to spit it out he's bound to look at me. Murphy's law and all that.

"I can't eat this", I slur.

"Then spit it out?"

"I can't", I nod discretely his direction.

"Oh, I see." I see the laughter that builds up inside Jackie, but I don't find this remotely funny. "If you don't want him to see you spit, hide under the table when you do it."

Grateful for the suggestion how to escape my predicament, I react before I realise she was ironic. I crouch down under the table and spit in my napkin. Relived I return to my seat, only to see him stare at me like 'WTAF is she doing?' Not optimal but at least he didn't see me disgorge a disgusting ball of half-chewed meat. That's not how I want him to think of me, if he thinks of me at all. Better strange than revolting.

Jackie looks at me with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk.

"Seriously Molly? And you claim you're not into this guy?"

The rest of the meal proceeds without incidents. Meaning; Jackie eats, I stick to the wine. My eyes lock with Gorgeous Guy's every now and then and every time my stomach twists in the strangest way.

When Manolo appears, he and Jackie convince me to join them for a drink before I head home to the romantic novel waiting on my bedside table. I don't want to be the third wheel, but they insist I'm not, so we leave for a bar. To get to the restaurant exit we have to pass Gorgeous Guy's table. When I do, I hear Jackie's words in my head and so when he looks up on me I dare to try what I think is my flirtiest smile. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. Happy surprise I hope but could just as well be that I only managed a grimace because I'm bloody nervous and now he wonders why in the world I make a strange face at him. So, when he smiles in return I don't know if he maybe, maybe is flirting back or just taking pity in a poor weird girl. He almost looks like he was about to say something, but I sort of panic and hurry my step. That's me done flirting for this century. I'm clearly not cut out for it and my heart is beating frantically as we leave.

Soon I find myself sipping a calming mojito Manolo has ordered. That and being out of Gorgeous Guy's sight does wonders to my nerves. Almost without noticing I have downed my first drink and a full glass has replaced it. When I calm down, I register this lovely minty drink is actually a bit strong, so I take it slower and Jackie and Manolo finish theirs before I do. Or maybe that was their first round and I'm actually ahead of them? Anyway, I sense that even if they deny it, they would like to move on now, to somewhere more private where they can indulge in some serious snogging and I won't be the one to hold them back.

"You know what, I'll finish my drink and then go back to the apartment. It's just around the corner so no need to wait, you run along."

"Are you sure?" Jackie is such a great friend (I really love her) and she wouldn't want me to feel lonely, but honestly I'm fine. More than fine. I enjoy watching people on my own. I have a mojito. I have tried to flirt and probably failed spectacularly, but that's nothing a mojito can't fix and soon I'll be on a plane home and never have to face him again.

"I'm sure. You know I lived in a rough neighbourhood before I moved in with you. I think I can manage twenty step home on my own."

Given my permission they quickly disappear, and I know I won't see Jackie until long after midnight or rather in the morning, as I will be sound asleep when she comes tip-toeing. Manolo stays with his parents for the summer and bringing home a girl overnight would be frowned upon, but they find somewhere to hang out in the warm evening and she'll be late in. I'm happy for her, I really am, but also just a little bit jealous at her romantic adventure. I have myself to suit though, I have declined a few offers from Manolo's friends. And as for Gorgeous Guy... maybe I should go and try that flirty smile in front of the mirror just to check how much of a disaster it was? Maybe I should rewind the evening and not order any Serrano.

I continue to sip my strong but delicious drink, feel it get a bit to my head. I look around in the room and when my gaze passes over the bar I have to look twice because there he is again. Leaning against the bar, drinking a Corona and looking straight at me. No mistake, he is looking at me and again smiling. _Really_ looking. I wish I had opted for a hotter outfit than my white eyelet dress, but these days I dress more cute or neat than sexy. So wish I had made an exception tonight. I suddenly get the feeling he joined us here from the restaurant, but it doesn't feel creepy. It just feels like maybe, maybe he wants to be with me like I want to be with him. Maybe my smile wasn't that bad after all. I try another smile, can't help it because his is so intoxicating and then, shit a brick! He is coming over.

Room quickly crossed on those long legs, he stands in front of me, only a few inches away so I can sort of _feel_ him, feel his presence, even if we don't touch. It's like the gap of air between us is fizzing, I have never felt like this before. I nervously clear my throat because I feel like I should say something, anything.

"I know you don't know English and I don't know Spanish, so I don't know how to talk to you, but I really really want to. Really wish I could say something clever and funny to you right now because you're so gorgeous with your golden skin and brown eyes..."

I circle my index finger in the air around his face, was that a strange thing to do?

"... and I hadn't really noticed before, but you have really lovely lips. Just full and soft and... your bottom lip is just... kissable... but I'm just talking gibberish and I'm totally blaming this drink. Mojito. Have you ever tried it? Delicious but I wouldn't recommend it if you want to stay level-headed. I'm always otherwise. You know, sensible, organised, in control. I don't even dress sexy because I don't want to risk a nip slip or a skirt slipping up too high. You're really not catching me at my best, not that you understand it anyway."

Oh, I made a little sidestep, obviously slightly tipsy.

"Anyway..." I finally breathe and point to myself and feel a bit ridiculous about the long intro. "I'm Molly."

He looks a bit baffled by my verbal diarrhoea and I see how the corners of his lovely mouth seem to be twitching upwards, but then he points to himself.

"Err... Soy Carlos."

The mischievous smile that accompanies the words somehow make me doubt that really is his name, but he has no reason to lie about it so why wouldn't it be. Maybe he just smiles because I'm a silly, intoxicated girl.

"Carlos? That's a beautiful name. A beautiful name on a beautiful boy... Man. I guess you're a man not a boy, you look like it."

I nearly sidestep again and place a hand on his chest for support. As rock hard as could be expected. He doesn't flinch, but I remove my hand. Don't want to be accused of harassing handsome strangers. I down the rest of my drink in one big gulp. Probably shouldn't have done that. He nods to the glass.

"Quieres otro? Ò quizas mejor con agua?"

I assume he is asking if I want another, but enough is enough if I'm going to maintain some degree of dignity, so I shake my head.

"Thanks, but no thanks."

There's a beat of silence. Then, without letting go of my eyes, he jerks his head direction of the entrance as a question. Do I want to go for a walk with him? Yes, absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt. Probably as unwise as downing two mojitos in no time when you already had half a bottle of wine and very little food, but I don't listen to the voice telling me that. When I nod, he holds out his hand. I put mine in it, feel his long, strong fingers wrap around mine and then he leads me out. I willingly follow. My control is gone. I couldn't care less.

We can't stop smiling. We walk next to each other holding hands in the warm Nerja evening, never minding all the people around us. We leave the crowded restaurant street, pass over the square where an uncommonly skilful street musician is playing guitar and continue on the beautiful promenade leading to the Balcón de Europa. It is a landmark in Nerja, a large round balcony on a cliff, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. I know from before that the panoramic view is spectacular but now I only have eyes for him. And he only has eyes for me. We halt there, out on the balcony. Normally, I might tell him something clever and well-informed from the guide book I read, like did you know that King Alfonso XII was the first to call this place the Balcony of Europe, but since he is a local he probably knows and secondly, I can tell by the way he's looking at me that he doesn't give a flying fuck about king Alonso or Alfons or whatever. His eyes shift to my mouth and I stay quiet. He places his palms on my hips and pulls me closer. I put up absolutely no resistance, just let myself mould into him.

We have been circling around each other. Now there is no more of that game. Instead we do what I in all honesty know we both have wanted since we first set eyes on each other even if I was too scared to admit it before. His mouth is hovering over mine a few thrilling seconds, then our lips crash in a marvellous deep, hard kiss that I never want to end.

* * *

**_A/N: I realised posting this chapter is actually an anniversary for me. A year ago (15 July 2018) I posted my very first fanfic chapter (She didn't see it coming.) I didn't see it coming that this would turn into absolute my favourite hobby or that I would have written the equivalent a few books by now. Anyway, it has been loads of fun, especially all the interactions with you and the encouraging reviews. Now need to pause this story a few days as it is my turn to write next chapter for 'Step by step' so I have to direct my imagination to that. Will soon return to this though! And I really am the worst one-shot writer in history, this will easily be five chapters. At least._**

**_xxx_**

**_/Miss P from Playa de Calahonda and the roof terrace, Nerja_**


	4. More than words

**_A/N: This took some time to write because it never wanted to end, but in return you get the length of two chapters in one._**

**_Apologies for any grammatical errors in the parts written in the second non-native language I'm attempting, but I rarely practice Spanish._**

**_Hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

**Chapter 4: More than words**

* * *

It's actually _me_ tip-toeing into the apartment where _Jackie_ already is sleeping, not the usual other way around. Or so I thought, when I enter she flies up from her position lying on the sofa.

"Molly! Where have you been?! I've been worried sick! You weren't here and when I texted you, you didn't answer. If you hadn't come I soon would have called the police!"

I thought maybe I felt my phone vibrate from a text message or two at some point, but I couldn't be arsed with checking. I was busy having an amazing time.

"Oh Jackie", I simply say and with a sigh sink down on the sofa and lean my head back. I'm so happy right now I almost don't know how to put it in words. When she cottons on to that nothing bad has happened to me, she immediately turns curious instead.

"Molly Dawes, what have you been up to since I last saw you? Now I want a full report, please."

"Snogging."

"What?"

"I. Have. Been. Snogging." I keep my eyes closed, smiling. I can still feel his lips on mine and I run my fingertips over them. They are bruised in a lovely way after hours of kissing.

"I heard you the first time, but who? How? What happened after we left?"

"Gorgeous Guy. His name is Carlos. He appeared in the bar and came over, but we couldn't really talk as he doesn't speak English, so we went for a walk and then we kissed. He's the most amazing kisser and we... Aaaaw, Jackie I've been with him all night.

"You never...?"

"No, not _that_."

It hadn't been far from it though. Not that we had gotten undressed or anything, but our hands had strayed to forbidden places and my mind even more so.

Once our lips touched we couldn't stop. Our mouths clamped to one another, his tongue deliciously exploring inside mine, mine questing into his. His lips, soft and gentle, hard and demanding at the same time, the taste of him, his hands buried in my hair holding me to him. It all made me dizzy in ways that couldn't be explained by the excessive alcohol. It made me lose my bearings in the loveliest of ways.

After being lost in one another for some time, we regained enough composure to realise our kissing was maybe a little over the top in the crowd on the balcony. He grinned at me, looking bashful and I hoped it was a sign that just like me it wasn't common behaviour for him to kiss like this in public. I didn't want to stop though and as if someone had given us a secret signal, we started walking back over the square, pausing only to kiss and laugh and then took the stairs down to Playa de Calahonda. At night the beach was beautifully illuminated by coloured lights, to prevent it from turning into a spooky place and we were not the only ones who had had the idea to come there. Those who were there were groups of young people sitting drinking and chatting, or couples who like us were looking for more privacy than up on the balcony. None who would be offended by a couple kissing. I never imagined I would be among them, but now that I was, I was all giddy with joy.

We found a quite secluded corner of the beach but before we sat down he stopped in his tracks and made a concerned gesture towards my white dress. I loved that he would worry about such a thing, but in that moment, my dress meant nothing to me. A bit of sand and dust is nothing the washing machine cannot solve, and other things were higher priority (I know I would never think so at home, but I did now), so I just giggled and sat down, pulling him with me. The concerned furrow between his brows disappeared as he sat down beside me. We didn't remain sitting for long. I laid myself down in the sand and he moved over me, holding the weight of his upper body on his arms not to weigh too heavy on me, whilst his lower body rested on mine, pinning me down in the sand in a way I quite liked. No loved. Grounded but thrilling.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, kissing, only shifting position when it got a bit uncomfortable. Me letting my hands slide under his shirt to feel the muscles on his back and his taut stomach; him grazing over my breasts on the outside of my dress; me grazing over the bulge at his groin; his hands moving up under my dress, caressing the skin on the inside of my thighs, high up but not all the way, until I nearly took his hand and moved it there right where I needed him to be. I drew the line there though, couldn't do that there among people, first night with a guy I barely know, no matter how much I wanted to. I'm not a slut and he certainly wasn't treating me like one. Every touch, every kiss seemed to be filled with equal amounts of tenderness and passion. It was because of that, because it was so perfect that Holiday Molly wanted more, but PA Molly stopped her. Me stopping me, that is, in a slightly schizophrenic manner.

When a streak of brighter sky at the horizon announced that morning soon would be here, I realised that maybe I ought to go to the apartment at some point, not to worry Jackie. As if he sensed the shift in my frame of mind, he moved away from me watching my face intently.

"As much as I hate to break this off, I need to head back or my friend might worry", I explained and nodded direction of the stairs so he would understand. He seemed to do, got to his feet and pulled me with him, into his arms and we remained like that for another five minutes before he walked me to my door.

"Mañana. Aqui?"

He pointed to the ground. I desperately wanted to understand him.

"Okay... 'Mañana' I know - tomorrow. You want to meet me here tomorrow? Or I guess you mean later today?"

I tried to use body language and even if I wasn't sure he understood, he nodded and laughed.

"Quieres ir a la playa conmigo?"

"Oh, something with the beach?"

He pointed at me, then to himself, signed like walking with two fingers.

"A la playa."

"You want to meet here to go to the beach together? If that's it, yes. Sí. I'd like that."

I nodded eagerly. Of course, I wanted to see him again.

"Entonces..." he pulled me to him. "Hasta mañana. Qué duermas bien", he murmured with his lips to my hair, then tipped my chin up to kiss me one more time before he watched me unlock the door and breathless slip inside, praying we actually had a date decided and I hadn't misunderstood the whole thing.

* * *

"So, you're ditching me today?" Jackie asks after I have filled in the gaps between last night and now.

Not to my credit, I must admit Jackie completely slipped my mind when I made plans with Carlos and I feel myself blushing.

"Don't worry, I'm just winding you up", she giggles. "I was going to ask you if you would mind very much if I spent the last day _and _night with Manolo? He has the day off and asked if I would come away with him."

"No, I don't mind, especially not now. But how? I thought you said he couldn't bring you home?"

"He borrowed a friend's flat and asked if I want to stay over."

"Of course, you should! What an ending to this holiday, both of us having dates. I never would have guessed, not for me anyway."

"All I can say is FINALLY! You _need_ this. Three years later and she finally has a much-needed rebound fling! Just have a great day and I want all the juicy details tomorrow."

"Who says there will be any?"

"As you have spent all night making out on the beach, I'm counting on another day and night to result in _some_ juicy details, or I'll be disappointed in you. Now we'd better get a few hours' sleep so we're not tired wrecks when we meet our boys."

* * *

We never agreed a specific time to meet, which was really stupid because it would have been easy to point on the watch, and when I wake up at 10 I'm anxious I might have missed him. I'm out of my bed quick as a flash, put on my bikini and spend half a minute choosing a top and skirt, brush my teeth carefully, grab my beach tote and towel and then I'm out of the door shouting goodbye to Jackie. Before I almost stumble out on the street, I take a deep breath and try to look cool. I don't want to seem like I have stressed like an idiot to meet him, even if I have. Maybe he will not be there anyway.

He is. He is waiting in the shadow, leaning casually against the white-painted wall opposite to our entrance. He really is there. Waiting. For me. He looks relaxed when I first see him, but as soon as I open the door and he notices me, he pushes off from the wall and come towards me and removes the pilot sunglasses he wears. He looks supremely cool in them, but I like it when I can see his eyes, outer corners crinkling from the big smile he gives me. He looks as happy as I feel. The white t-shirt which follows the form of his torso and leaves his forearms bare is combined with well-fitting khaki cargo shorts and I hope I don't look like I'm devouring him with my eyes, though I am. Shit. How am I going to cope spending the day with him sober? It is fortunate we can't talk because I'm quite sure I wouldn't manage anything coherent.

"Hi", I say apprehensively.

"Hola! Estás muy guapa."

I think he gave me a compliment, sounded like it. Without hesitation, he pulls me to him and I coil my arms around his neck and we kiss like it is completely natural, as if we weren't strangers just ogling each other yesterday this time of the day. Just like that he broke the ice, thank fuck. Then he takes my hand and we walk down to the same beach where we spent half the night kissing.

There is something thrilling about being on the beach with someone you're _with_ but haven't slept with. Dressed in only bikini and swimming trunks, we are more than half-naked in broad daylight. We are exposing so much skin, yet it is perfectly _comme il faut_ to be dressed like this among others because we happen to be on the beach. To remove further pieces of clothes would be unthinkable though and it is something of a relief, tempting and frustrating all at once. Even if I would want him naked next to me, I'm surely not ready to yet. I can indulge in watching him openly though, instead of sneak peeking like I did before. I'm totally appreciating the view.

We lie in the shadow of our parasol, on two sunbeds we have placed as close to one another as possible with the blessing of a smirking Pepe. When Carlos idly let his fingers trace on my bare skin, on my arms, my belly but stopping well before he reaches the lining of my bikini bottom, there is a sensation like electric currents traveling direction of where my thighs meet, and I have to stop myself from biting my lip. I'm slightly embarrassed at how much it turns me on, so try not to show it, but I think he knows. When I touch him, I see my feelings mirrored in his eyes, with pupils dilated despite the bright sun. When we lose ourselves in a long lovely snog, our bodies almost unconsciously move until there is near to no gap between us and then I can certainly feel his arousal too, through the thin fabric of our swimwear. Most definitely. It takes all my self-control not to start grinding against him, instead just keep kissing him like a little saint. (Or not a saint maybe, they would probably keep lips pursed and use no tongue.) Now it is his turn to be embarrassed and he puts his towel over our merged hips, so at least no one else will see his physical reaction. His eyes are hooded when they meet mine, he laughs hoarsely, kisses me hard once more then backs off for a time-out but without ceasing to stroke gently over my skin, making my downy hairs stand to attention and leaving me wish we were alone. Me, Molly Dawes, who just don't do things like this. I don't make out with strangers, not on the beach, not anywhere. I definitely don't have sex with strangers.

Once things have, let's say, normalised, we go for a swim. There in the cool water, we allow ourselves to be close again. He lifts me up, easily done with the help of the water and giggling I wrap my legs around him. Enjoy the feeling of his slick, hard body to mine and his hands on the cheeks of my bum holding me firmly in place as we kiss and kiss, laugh and kiss some more. There is something so sensual yet carefree fun about making out like this in the water. Honestly, I don't know if I have ever felt this happy, through and through. I know for sure I have never been so turned on, definitely not in public. Well, except for last night. I think somewhere in the background Wonder Woman is staring at us like she can't understand how he could possibly end up with _me_ instead of her, but I'm not in the mood for gloating.

It doesn't matter much that we can't talk, we just enjoy each other's presence. It feels surprisingly easy, to the extent that we even take a nap at one point. I don't want to think of that all we have is today because I stupidly wish there was more. Later, when we're back on the beach after lunch at Jackie's and my usual place, I tell him though.

"Mañana..." I say and continue the phrase with a hand gesture and a whistle, aiming to illustrate the plane taking off. He gets it and to my delight he looks crushed for a moment, until it's like he realises it is written on his face, he feels silly and just put on a charming mask. But I saw before he could hide it; saw that he wants me to leave just as little as I want to go. Reality is as it is though, and we just have to make the most of the day.

It is late afternoon, temperature has cooled down slightly and there is a special calmness to the beach as people are starting to pack up and leave. I'm wondering what now, if/how we make plans for the evening as I hope he wants to. Then Carlos gets up and walks over to Pepe's little tent and talk to him. After a while he returns, and it seems Pepe has helped him write a note in English. I'm quite impressed with Pepe's beautiful, sweeping handwriting but most interested in what the note says;

_'Do you want to have dinner with me tonight? If yes, I need to go home and change but I can pick you up at 7? Would make me very happy if you say yes.'_

I read the note twice, then look up to meet his brown, twinkling eyes.

"Yes, I'd love that." I nod to make sure he understands, and he looks a combination of happy, mischievous and relieved.

We pack up and even if he doesn't need to, he follows me to my door like a gentleman. I like that about him, that he seems like a Spanish version of a gent, rather than a player regularly picking up girls on the beach. When we had lunch, he pulled out the chair for me, poured water in my glass before his own, payed the bill even if I tried to insist we would split it in half. I could be wrong and I'm simply the one he has chosen to flirt with this week, but it doesn't feel like it.

* * *

At 7 sharp I step out of the door. It has been busy two hours, showering, shaving, blow drying then curling my hair into lose waves, putting on nearly invisible makeup so I look like a fresh-faced but improved version of myself, lastly added two drops of light perfume on my neck. I'm wearing a dress I have borrowed from Jackie knowing well she would just encourage me, a light beige shimmering in gold, with spaghetti straps and fitted top. The cleavage is a little deeper and the skirt slightly shorter than the knee length I usually opt for. Paired with beige strappy high heels I feel somewhat out of my comfort zone, but the look he gives me when he sees me, makes me feel sensational instead.

He, on the other hand, takes my breath away. Even when I'm wearing heels I'm once again taken aback by his impressive height, as if he has grown an inch or two in the last hours. He is dressed in a black cotton shirt with a few buttons undone, which together with his loose light grey trouser make him look very smartly relaxed and the black enhances his deep tan in a very flattering way. When he kisses me hello, I inhale his amazing scent; skin that has been in the sun but is freshly showered, mixed with a divine musky aftershave. His curls are still damp, and I run my fingers through them when we kiss hello. I can't believe I have a date with this man, but I do. There is no doubt about it. The best thing is that he is looking at me like he can't believe he has a date with _me_.

We walk along Calle Almirante Ferrándiz until we reach a small restaurant which Jackie and I haven't tried, _Esquina Paulina_. It looks rustic, cosy and has a few tables out on the street. One is empty, and he nods towards it.

"Es mi favorito."

"Your favourite restaurant?"

"Sí."

It seems to be a tapas place rather than one serving full dishes, but I'm quite fond of the tapas concept, he likes the place and I could eat whatever tonight so I'm perfectly fine with his choice. In fact, I let him order despite that I otherwise never would let anyone order for me. What with me preferring to be in control, why would I ever let a guy order for me? Maybe it is my relaxed holiday mood, maybe it is because I trust him, but for once it actually feels good to just lean back and let him take care of everything. Either way, I enjoy taking him in talking to the staff which he, judging by the heartily greetings they exchange, obviously knows. He is so natural and at ease, not showing off placing his order. He seems friendly as he talks and laughs, gestures with his hands but there is something more to him. When I see him among other people, he somehow seems used to be in charge, to take command in a situation, to the extent that it is part of him and he can't turn it off even if he manages to do it in a charming relaxed manner. I also notice how expressive his eyebrows are, he uses them the whole time when talking; raising them, frowning them to emphasize the verbal conversation. He smiles his lovely smile more than he is serious, but I bet he can look fierce when someone has pissed him off. It is like he is kind and likeable but with a definite edge. Like a cuddly lion with claws and roar that can be used if needed. I can't help feeling that combination is very sexy.

He talks to the man who seems to be the owner for a while, but then focus completely on trying to ensure I have a good time. Two glasses of red wine and some olives quickly appear on our table and he orders the food without even looking at the laminated menu.

"Canapés variados, el tomatito, la rueda de quesos Españoles, embutidos Ibericos y jamón Serrano, por favor."

The waiter leaves to place our order in the kitchen and I'm thinking that the dinner, when we can't kiss as frequently as we otherwise have done, might turn awkward if we don't speak so I just start small talking, even if he doesn't understand.

"I heard you ordered Serrano, that's about as much as I picked up from what you just said, but I'll leave the Serrano to you mate. Had an unfortunate incident with that the other evening, turned into this ball of meat I couldn't swallow. That was when I had to dive under the table to spit it out and you looked at me like I'm mad - which I'm not. Hope you know that by now."

He just smiles, shakes his head slowly, tongue in cheek, like maybe he thinks I'm a bit weird now talking when I know he doesn't know English.

"I _do_ get that you don't understand me, I'm not daft. It just seems nicer to talk than not anyway. Seems a bit odd to stay silent throughout a dinner, don't you think?"

He nods encouraging, almost like he understands.

The first plates arrived; one with assorted Spanish cheeses, one with a tomato salad and bread and the dreaded ham. It looks nice, but it turns out to taste heavenly.

"I don't know what you do with the tomatoes in this country. I mean this is just tomatoes, salt, pepper and olive oil, but it tastes amazing! I swear I could live of only tomatoes if they always tasted like this and if I wouldn't get some kind of nutrition deficiency. Maybe I should buy a bag of tomatoes and bring home. Do they allow that, bringing vegetables on the plane? And I should ask what olive oil this is, best I've ever tasted. If you weren't here I might consider licking the plate. Well, sucking it up with the bread works fine too I guess."

He looks at me intently and keeps smiling, takes a sip of his wine, eat some and allow me to ramble on about the tomatoes, all whilst he looks like he is really listening to me.

"You're a great listener. Maybe this is the key to get a guy to listen; meet one who doesn't speak the same language. Lots of the guys I know are assholes, some of them just in the small things like that they never listen to the women at the office and if I tell them a good idea, they'd try to nick it and present as their own. I'm lucky to have a great female boss who sees through that. Then there are the real assholes, those who always stare at my arse or even try to touch it should they get an opportunity to do it unnoticed. I can fend for myself, it's not that. It's just that it's really nice to meet a decent guy I can relax with. Actually, I would love it if you spoke my language because I have a feeling I'd like you even more then. I'm quite convinced by now you're not an asshole."

"Sabes que es preciosa? Me gusta escuchar a todo que dices, es fascinante. Mi único problema es que quiero besarte todo el tiempo. _Todo_ el tiempo. No sé que hacer. Quiero estar solo contigo. _Necesito_ estar solo contigo."

Wish I knew what he said, he has a problem with something. Maybe he has lost something precious.

He takes my hand lying on the table and with the pad of his thumb strokes over my knuckles with his gaze fixed on it. Then he looks up in my face, his eyes all dark and intense.

"Te quiero."

My breath hitches. I remember what Jackie said. 'Te quiero' can mean 'I love you' but that is impossible because we don't know each other. Even if everything feels almost scary right, like we just click, we have barely been able to talk. That leaves only the other option; he _wants_ me.

Suddenly I'm out of words. My mouth is dry, and I can hear my own pulse resounding in my ears. Our eyes are locked, and I just nod, showing him I have understood, and I want him too.

To my surprise he gets up and goes inside, only to come back a minute later and pushes me another written note. This time he looks slightly embarrassed, if he wasn't so tanned there might me a tinge of pink on his high cheekbones.

He really knows how to pick people with good handwriting to convey his messages. The style is slightly different from the note Pepe wrote but there is a similar flow to the letters, maybe that's how they teach them to write in the Spanish school. This time it says;

"_Believe me, this isn't something I usually ask a girl I have just met, but you are leaving tomorrow, and I don't want this evening to end. Do you want to come to my place for the night_? _After we finish the meal of course_.

He actually asked someone in the restaurant to write this? Anyway, that's not important. What is important is that he wants to spend the night with me, at his place. I swear my trail of thoughts is moving with lightning speed as I read.

'Shit. Do I dare to go with him? He's a stranger after all. But I do feel so strangely safe with him, like I've never felt with anyone. He even wants to ensure I finish my meal before luring me to bed so I won't be famished, only good guys think like that, right? Am I ready to spend the night with him? So lucky I shaved and picked my best pair of knickers, _if_ I go with him. Where does he even live? I can't do this. What if he thinks I suck in bed? Not like in _suck my dick_, but if he thinks I'm shit? It has been so long since I… but maybe it's like riding a bike. My ex seemed to appreciate my moves, until he went and shagged my mate… Oh, don't go there, not now when you're here with this marvellous man who is bound to be great in bed. You can see that in the way he moves, so smooth. I can't do this. I want to do this. I will. I WILL.'

I nod and bite my lower lip. He raises his eyebrows, questioning like 'Really?' I nod again just as the next round of tapas arrive. They are probably as delicious as the first, but now taste like sandpaper. I have just said I'm coming with him to his place and we both know what we want to happen there. We finish the meal anyway, probably because neither of us want to seem desperate. When he asks for the bill I'm thinking 'finally' and 'shit shit shit this is it'.

We walk in silence to a parking close to our apartment, because there he has parked his black little Vespa. He hands me the only helmet and even if I appreciate the consideration I'm sure I'll look like a prannet, so I take it with some reluctance and he smirks like he understands. He looks cool when he swings his long leg over the scooter and pats the seat behind him. Giggling I straddle it, being short-arsed, naturally with less grace than him but he only seems pleased to have me there. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head to his back, already enjoying this Vespa ride.

"Todo bíen?

"Sí." I have butterflies in my stomach but otherwise everything is well in the world.

Nerja is situated on a mountainside and now we drive uphill, away from the beach and the most touristic streets. We continue through a few roundabouts and maybe he feels me stir, a little worried when I'm thinking that it looks like we are about to leave Nerja.

"Mi casa es en Frigiliana", he tells me over his shoulder. I relax. It is the village just above Nerja, known for its beauty. Jackie and I thought about taking the bus there but then we were too lazy in the heat. Now if seems I will get to see it anyway.

Soon we stop outside a house in rustic old Spanish style. I'm really curious as we enter because maybe it will give me more clues about him, but despite that it is a very beautiful home I'm disappointed in that aspect. Just like our rented apartment, photos of family and friends and personal little trinkets are missing. It feels cosy because of the way it is built and the combination of materials; plaster, visible bricks and dark wood, and fabrics in warm colours, but other than that it is quite impersonal and tells me nothing new about him except that he has good taste. We step out on the big tiled terrace with the most amazing cerise bougainvillea I have ever seen, and I understand why he chose to live here instead of down in Nerja. The view is breath-taking; in the dusky light I can still see the green mountainsides, the white houses of Nerja below where lights are glimmering like stars and beyond that the sea stretching until it meets the sky.

"This is so beautiful!"

"_Tú_ eres bella."

He isn't looking at the view, he looks at me and I feel a heat wave rise inside.

"Quieres un vaso de vino?"

I guess he is asking if I want a glass of wine, not a vase even if I sure could need it to steady my nerves. Either way I want it and nod and soon he returns with two glasses of chilled white wine.

We stand there sipping our glasses in silence and my nervousness is building until I cannot stand it anymore. I put down my glass and turn to him. He looks like he was about to say something, but when I close the gap between us, take his glass from him and put down too, put my arms around his neck, his eyes darken, and he just lowers his mouth to mine.

Entwined and kissing like maniacs we stumble towards the bedroom, the one I didn't dare to look into before and barely register now except that the bed is big. I may be nervous, but I want this with every fibre of my being and nothing would stop me now.

He pauses for a moment.

"Molly..."

"Hush..." I put my fingers to his lips. "Don't say anything. Don't worry, I'm not feeling pressured or anything. I'm not drunk either. Was a bit yesterday but not now. This is all I want. _Really_ want."

Then he takes my hand, the one I've been holding to his lips and kisses the palm. He cups my head between his hands and kisses me on the mouth, before he let his warm, firm lips move down to my collarbone, tracing the line of it and I honestly think I'm going to die from wanting him. He takes a step back to slowly push down the spaghetti straps from my shoulders and let the dress fall around my waist, then carefully tug it down over my hips until it lies in a pile on the floor. It is not the kind of dress that looks good to wear a bra under and putting it on was one of the rare occasions when I appreciated that my cup size doesn't require a bra, but it also means that I'm suddenly standing before him more naked than I have been before. He still has all his clothes on and I feel a bit exposed. As if he understands it he wraps me in his arms, holds me close to him, make me feel safe and aroused all at once.

"Mi turno", he says when he steps back, cocking his eyebrow in the sexiest way and then he swiftly unbuttons his shirt, wriggles it off and let the trousers follow.

His black trunks aren't less clothing than his swimming trunks, but it feels very different. Private. Him and I. Especially as I clearly can see a certain bulginess from him wanting me. He rakes his bottom lip with his teeth, now the one looking a bit self-conscious. I guess we both are a little nervous, as we want this badly.

With a laughter he pulls me to him and we fall on the bed together. I love the feeling of his hands and mouth on my skin, trailing down my belly and spine, teasing my nipples, finding their way between my thighs. Especially love what he does there. I love the feeling of his smooth skin under my fingers as I draw patterns on it following the contours of his muscles, and the way he simultaneously is soft and hard depending on where my hands move. Then the sensation when he enters me, and we move our bodies together, almost too much to take. There was no need to be nervous; we are as in sync in this as we have been with everything. I have never experienced anything like this before. This is how it is supposed to be.

We have sex, then we sleep a little, then we have sex again. All night. Somehow it feels like the periods of light sleep is part of the sex because we stay entwined all the time on the crumpled sheets, making sure our bodies touch and almost caressing one another even in sleep. It's like we cannot bear being separated even briefly this night, cannot get enough of the feeling of skin to skin, cannot inhale each other's' scent deep enough. He gets to know a side of me no one ever knew before, not even me. One without inhibitions, without the need to stay in control. I wouldn't even _know_ how to stay in control being with him this night when he makes me come again and again and I want to do the same to him. It's like we're not two separate beings anymore, but _one_ sleeping and climaxing in this bed. For the first time ever, I'm not afraid to let go.

I tell him that as I lie resting on his chest, with his arm around me, his lips pressed to the top of my nut. I wouldn't if he understood but now there is no reason not to.

"This night... it has been like nothing I've experienced before. I don't usually let people in easily... I don't mean physically, like sex, even if I don't either. I'm usually a bit reserved in general and one-nighters is so not me. Too reserved if you ask Jackie or my boss, they say I have trust issues. My boss is sort of a friend too and she likes to have an opinion about my private life. It was she who forced me to go on this holiday and now I'm chuffed about that, but I wasn't before I went. Anyway, she thinks I'm too serious for my age, don't have enough fun. She should see me now! (I don't mean I would actually want her to see me like this.) I never have one-night stands, maybe I said that already. Actually, I don't even date. That's what bothers her and Jackie, but that is the easiest way not to get hurt you know. A few years ago, I had a boyfriend. I was in love with him, but then he went and shagged my best mate. So, my boyfriend cheated on me and I couldn't even cry on my best friend's shoulder. I have been more careful choosing my friends since then and I have averted men completely. Until now, until you."

I turn around and prop my head up, so I can look down on his face.

"I don't know what it is about you. I don't think it's only that I'm holiday, or that you're bloody gorgeous. I just like you, like being with you. You make me feel excited and safe at the same time and I can't get enough. I wish we could talk to each other, wish I could stay so we could get to know each other. But I can't. I have to return to my job and I guess you have to continue whatever it is you do, but I love this. Love us. It has been amazing."

He meets my gaze seriously and gently pushes away a strand of hair from my face. He looks like he is about to say something, but I want to hide the tears that suddenly prick on the back of my eyelids, so I close my eyes and cover his mouth with mine. He pulls me on top of him and we make love again, slow, sensual and, it feels like, filled with deep emotion. I realise in this moment there is a risk I will jump on that plane broken-hearted, but I push the thought aside and exist only here and now, with him.

Finally, morning comes, and we have to get up, so I get back in time for my afternoon flight. We shower, and he makes me breakfast, tea and a lovely tomato sandwich which he puts in front of me with a smile. Obviously, he picked up that I love the tomatoes. We eat in companionable silence enjoying the view from the terrace and when we are done he waves me over to come and sit in his lap, where he mumbles in Spanish in my hair and even if I don't understand the words I can hear they are words of love. We have another long snog but then it is time to leave. My whole body screams it doesn't want to leave, it wants to stay here in his atmosphere, but the rational me knows it isn't possible.

He drives me back to Nerja and again I lean my cheek to his broad back, inhale him, try to absorb all that he is for a few minutes more. We say goodbye there, on the street. I don't want to ask him to come up and say goodbye in front of Jackie.

I pick out an old receipt and a pen from my handbag and write down my e-mail and phone number.

"If you ever learn English, or if you're ever in England you could write me..."

I let my words trail off, knowing it is ridiculous to think that a holiday fling where there wasn't even one proper conversation would ever work at home. It's just that there has been so much more than words. I think he feels the same as he takes the piece of paper like it is precious to him and puts it in his pocket.

He cups my face in his palms and smooths gently over my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, leaning his forehead to mine.

"Quisiera decirte la verdad, pero ahora no sé como. Tengo miedo de destrozar todo. Tú eres tan preciosa, nunca voy a olvidar esto."

I have no clue what he says but it sounds beautiful and sad.

"You're the best thing that happened to me, like ever. I'll never forget these days", I say.

We kiss one more time, hug hard and then he lets go of me like there is no point in prolonging the misery of saying farewell. Of course, he is right.

"Hasta luego, cariña. Ya te echo de menos."

"Bye, I hope I see you again sometime. I'll miss you."

He blinks like maybe he got some smudge in his eyes, but put on his sunglasses and look stone-faced instead, jumps on his Vespa and he is gone.

This time I had texted Jackie I was staying away for the night, so she wouldn't worry in case she returned from Manolo's earlier than me. 'You go girl!' was all she cheerfully answered. Now she looks up from packing her bags as I walk through the door. First with a big smile, then she turns serious when she sees my sad face. She realises that now isn't the time to question me about the amazing night she hopes I have had, that will have to wait until later.

"Oh, Molly", is all she says, then she comes over and hugs me. How is it possible to ache for a man you only have known a few days, already a few minutes after leaving him? I don't know, but I do. As if the sensible girl I thought I was has disappeared into thin air and been replaced by someone feeling far too much.

* * *

The cab picks us up an hour and a half later. I can't help it; all that time I hope he will return. On the way to the airport and all the time until we walk through the security check, I hope he will come running like they do in movies. Hope that he has realised he can't let me leave without kissing me one more time and then he'll give me another written note, saying he'll take an intensive speed course learning English and move to England because he can't imagine a life without me. Of course, none of that happens. Jackie and I board the plane without any further excitement and return home, but I know I have left a piece of my heart with Carlos. How cliché is that?


	5. A top recruitment

**_A/N: Someone thought previous chapter was the last, but noooo, wouldn't leave it like that._**

**_Before they said goodbye, Carlos told Molly; 'I want to tell you the truth, but now I don't know how. I'm afraid I'll just destroy everything. You're so precious to me and I'll never forget this.'_**

**_So, of course we must find out what that truth is before this story ends!_**

**_There are usually songs in the background when I write. The one for previous chapter was '17' by Julia Michaels, the perfect one for this is Dido's 'Sand in my shoes' if you wish for mood music._**

* * *

**Chapter 5: A top recruitment**

* * *

I'm back in my right element; the concrete jungle of London, more specifically in the office I take pride in running smoothly. Back to doing the work I'm bloody god at, enjoy 100% and never wanted to leave in the first place. Then how come I feel so miserable?

I can't sleep, I can't eat, I'm performing my tasks, but I know that I'm not as focused as I use to be. What's wrong with me? It doesn't take a genius to answer that. I miss Carlos.

I miss his presence, his smile, his brown twinkling eyes, running my fingers through his hair, the feeling of his hard body, his hands on me, his kisses on my mouth and all over me, his voice even if I didn't understand him, his scent. I miss exactly _everything_ about him and I think about him pretty much constantly.

I keep checking my phone and my e-mail, hoping he might send me a few lines with the help of google translate, but two weeks after returning home it is dead quiet. Last evening I put away a pair of espadrilles I used to wear in Nerja and sand fell out. I started crying at the thought of that those were grains of sand from the beach where we were together, kissing both night and day. I was about to sweep them up and put in a glass jar or something to keep, when I realised how utterly pathetic I was and reluctantly threw them in the garbage instead. I don't want to let go of him, but I realise it is time. I need to focus on trying to be happy here instead. In my real life. So today, whenever he comes to mind, I determinedly shift away. Shut off all thoughts of him. Enough is enough and I'm Molly Dawes, a sensible and grounded girl.

"You seem more like your usual self today", Anna says.

"How do you mean?"

"You have seemed a bit absent and unhappy since you returned from your holiday. To be honest I have been a bit worried about you, but I trust you would tell me if anything was wrong?"

I have consciously avoided to tell Anna about the holiday fling that left me broken-hearted, because I know she would feel responsible for pushing me from bad to worse in the relationship department and I don't want her to feel like that. Even if I feel miserable now, I wouldn't want that holiday or Carlos undone for anything. I just have to put it behind me now.

"No, nothing is wrong. Maybe it was just the contrast after being on holiday that made me a bit unfocused and now I'm used to being back to normal again", I try to convince her.

She looks at me searchingly.

"If you say so. Whatever the reason, I'm glad you seem okay now."

"I am, perfectly fine."

And from now I decide I _will_ be fine. Not only fine in the way I was before I went on holiday, I will be _even_ better. Anna and Jackie are right; I need to move on from Artan's and Mary's betrayal. I can't let them keep ruining my life. I loved what I experienced with Carlos, it made me feel alive. Maybe I can't have exactly that again, but at least I should allow myself to have fun. Maybe even try dating, not tomorrow or next week but sometime soon if a decent guy comes along. I won't let this wonderful holiday drag me down. I will use it for something positive. One of Jackie's terrible self-help books was called 'I_ chose happiness_'. I make a pact with myself to do from now on.

* * *

**Two months later...**

Christ, it feels good to be back! I have been away for a week out on some old, draughty countryside estate where there were far too much fields, trees and animals around for me to feel at home. The purpose was for me to further improve my organizational and project management skills. Anna sends me on different courses every now and then, for my personal development. She claims I don't want to remain her PA for the rest of my life. She even made me write down in my IDP, Individual Development Plan, that I aim to be a project manager. I did it to please her, because I'm perfectly happy where I am.

The last months I have done some changes to my life though. Nothing too radical. I have been out for drinks and dancing with Jackie more often than before, nearly once a week instead of twice per year which was the average before. When we have been out shopping, I have dared to chose a few clothes not entirely in line with my usual fashion gurus' dress code, i.e. my boss Anna and Rachel and Donna in 'Suits'. I needed to hot up my classic style a bit when I'm off work (Jackie's words not mine). I have started dating a guy called Alex. Yup, that is the biggest change. We have seen each other three times now and have another date on Saturday.

I don't feel the same overwhelming attraction to Alex as I did to Carlos, but he _is_ cute and nice, and I enjoy his company. In contrast to Carlos, he can answer when I talk to him and more importantly, he is _here_. As Jackie says, I need to see others not to think about Carlos the whole time. I haven't told her that I do anyway, no matter how hard I try not to, and I haven't told her I have started studying Spanish. Just in case we go to Spain next summer again. Or if Carlos maybe has lost the note with my contact details but finds it one day and writes me. That hasn't happened yet though. Total radio silence. So, this is where I am right now. All in all, between friends, dating and job, life is good, but I miss Carlos and wonder what he does now. If he ever thinks of me and our night together.

Anyway, I'm relieved to be back where I belong, the countryside gives me the willies. I made sure I arrived in the office early this morning, before anyone else, to get on top of things (even more efficient than usual, applying my newly acquired skills) before the Monday morning leadership team meeting. I always participate to take minutes, but Anna often involves me in the discussions too. She says I bring a fresh perspective. I don't know if she means the perspective of a young woman or the perspective of someone who grew up in Newham and never went to uni. Either way she listens to me and make the others do so too and I really appreciate it. In the beginning I was uncomfortable speaking up, but I have grown used to it being expected and these days I say what I think when they ask me.

By the time the meeting starts at 9, I efficiently have gone through my e-mails and regular mail, have full overview of Anna's schedule for the week, have talked to a few colleagues for a verbal update from last week and feel quite sure I'm on top of everything even if I didn't have a chance to catch up with Anna. Therefore, two of her announcements during the morning meeting take me by surprise. Obviously things have happened that I knew nothing of.

After ticking of the regular items on the agenda, Anna pauses to take a sip of coffee from the take-away I got her. She always says that any other time of the day she can do with the office coffee brewer but for her morning coffee she needs Starbucks.

"I want to announce a few staff changes", she then says and I'm immediately alert because I have not been informed about any staff changes.

"Let's start with the negative news. You all know Ian Banning in accounting."

I shudder. Wish I didn't know Ian and the way he always stares at my arse. I can virtually see the filthy thoughts passing through his mind when he rests his eyes on a girl. Yes, any girl. The other week I could swear he intentionally groped me, though he pretended to just bump into me in the lift. He truly is despicable.

Anna continues and has put on her stern face.

"End of last week, it was brought to my attention that Ian has been harassing one of the female staff members in accounting for several months though she didn't come forward until he became... physical." Her facial expression is as irked as I feel, though I'm not surprised.

"I fired him on the spot. We have zero tolerance for sexual harassment in this company, so he had to go. We will follow up with a reminder of our policy on the next staff meeting. If you or any of the staff have further questions, please come to me."

Everyone nods in agreement. Even if there are a few other men I don't particularly like in the office, none is such a definitive jerk as Ian, so if you ask me it is very good news he is gone. If that was the bad news according to Anna, what is the good?

"The second piece of news I'm much more pleased to announce and it has to do with a new recruitment to the company. One I have worked to bring about for a long time and after a final interview last week, when we both agreed we seem to be a perfect fit for one another, he has accepted my offer to join us. The man in question is called Charles James and with his somewhat unusual background I think he has a lot to contribute to this team. I can assure you many of our competitors wanted him but he chose us. He truly is a top recruitment, so let us take very well care of him, shall we? Not that we don't with everyone."

She ends with a big smile and what she says is true. In this office everyone is a valuable part of the team, until the day they decide to sexually harass a colleague.

This Charles James sounds like he indeed is a catch for the company and Anna seems extremely pleased, but I feel a little bit unsettled. Normally she always asks my opinion about potential candidates when hiring for key positions and I guess I just feel a little bit left out. Stupid, I know, because she is the boss and naturally has the mandate to decide who she hires without consulting her PA.

When the meeting is over she waves for me to come into her office.

"Good to have you back, Molly."

"Good to be back."

"I know what you're thinking", she smiles.

"That it's great that Ian is gone?"

"Well, that too. He was a creep and it was just a matter of time before he went too far, but unfortunately I had no reason to fire him before he actually did as he performed his tasks to satisfaction. Anyway, that's not what I meant. I know you like to have a say when I employ new staff..."

"I would never expect to..."

"I _know_ you don't, but it has become something of a tradition that I ask your opinion in these matters because I trust your judgement of people's character. I know that if someone passes through your scrutiny they are bound to be good. However, in this case I had to act when the opportunity arised and he was available for an interview. When we met face to face we really clicked, and everything was quickly settled. Even if I don't have to explain myself to you, I wanted you to know this doesn't mean that I don't still value your opinion. Okay?"

"Okay", I smile in return.

"I have high hopes for Charles James and expect I will be able to delegate some of the work I do today to him. As you know, I have had a far too high workload for long and I hope this hire will help me to restore a healthier work-life balance."

"Well, that sounds good. Does this mean I will work for him too?"

"No, I count on needing your full support in the future too. We will hire another PA for him, but we do that once he gets started. He will start in two weeks, so you'll meet him then. In the meantime, could you please file his CV for me?"

She hands me a bunch of papers and smirks, because she thinks I will scrutinize Mr. James' Curriculum Vitae before putting it away in the archive room. Of course I will. Even if I didn't get to meet him in person before he was hired, I want to know what we're in for.

To be honest Charles James seems a bit intimidating, or even terrifying when I go through his CV and resumé. After spending his adolescence in one of the most prestigious boarding schools the country can offer, he went on to Oxford University before he was accepted to the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst. He did not only pass through to become an officer but was awarded the Sword of honour for being the best cadet in his year. Within months of passing out he was deployed to Afghanistan, returned there for several tours, was rapidly promoted to captain and, I can read between the lines, was destined to raise further in rank had he not been injured and medically discharged. But Charles James obviously wasn't one for sulking when one career went down the drain. He quickly studied for an MBA, was employed by a competitor of ours and seems to be able to claim credit for having turned them around from barely making profit to now being one of the leading companies in the market.

Reading this far he seems quite insufferable; born with a silver spoon in his mouth (or maybe up his arse), attended the best schools as an A student and apparently always successful in all he has done thereafter, but then comes an interesting part. A year ago he decided to take a time-out from everything. No details are given about what he has done, he seems to consider that his private business. A few months ago he decided it was time to return to the world of business but felt strongly he now wanted to work for a company with sound values. One with a moral compass, not only profit in sight. That was what made him interested in Anna's company, Ethica Trading, when she approached him, and it was part of why she was able to convince him to start working for her.

I find this to be an interesting twist, one which makes him seem more likeable and I'm suddenly curious to meet him. One more thing catches my eye; under language skills he claims to be fluent in both Italian and Spanish. Maybe, once I get to know him, if he is nice, I could ask him to help me with the tricky part of my Spanish homework.

* * *

Two weeks later and my personal life is more interesting than it has been since... well, since Carlos. My dating with Alex continues successfully and the other weekend I spent the night at his place for the first time. I was a bit hesitant, like I didn't want to spoil the memory of what I had with Carlos, but then Jackie pointed out that I hardly can be expected to stay celibate for the rest of my life to keep that memory sacred and finally I thought 'What the heck, just get it over with'. It was... satisfying. I mean it was nice, it felt good, but maybe something is missing. I pretended I came, but I didn't really. After Carlos I know for sure what that feels like. Well, it's early days. We have only done it three times and I'm sure we will be more in tune as we go along. I wonder how many times Carlos and I did it that night? And how many times he made me come. Five maybe? Or more?

Anyway, we are preparing to receive our new highly esteemed employee this afternoon.

"I have arranged so he is scheduled to take the photo for his access card later this afternoon; his office is in order and there is a welcome bouquet of flowers on the desk; the lap top I ordered has arrived. I think we are set to receive him", I inform Anna.

"Great, I knew you would have everything under control."

Her phone calls and she answers.

"Okay, thank you. I'll come down."

She turns to me again after hanging up.

"He's in the downstairs reception now. I'll go get him myself to welcome him. Would you prepare a tray with coffee and some biscuits and bring to my office in ten minutes? Then you can say hello to him too."

"Of course."

I was in the pantry preparing the coffee tray when they came up with the lift, so I didn't catch a glimpse of him then. As I approach Anna's office I'm terribly curious about this military business man who sneaked away for a secret time-out, but now will work with us.

I hear Charles James voice before I see him. Coming through Anna's office door open ajar, the voice is deep and melodious, and he speaks with the posh accent of someone who has gone to public school. Somehow it strikes a chord in me and I immediately like it. Reminds me of someone.

Coffee tray in hand, I push the door open with my shoulder. They stand with their backs to me, admiring the view of the London skyline through Anna's huge window panes.

"Ah, Molly, there you are. Charles, I want you to meet one of the key people in this office, the one who makes my day run smoothly; my PA Molly."

The tall, dark-haired man turns, and I meet his brown eyes, and everything suddenly seems surreal and like happening in slow motion.

I feel my welcoming smile fade, I stumble and somehow, the tray slips in my hands, so it falls to the floor and there is the sound of porcelain shattering into pieces and coffee splashes everywhere. Maybe I even burn myself but if so, I don't feel it.

So much is going through my mind right in this moment, but the question I most would like to have answered is; What the actual fuck is Carlos doing in Anna's office?


	6. He'll regret what he let pass him by

**_A/N: Thanks for all the kind reviews! I'm always amazed and grateful for such positive feedback when I step away from the original OG as much as I do in this one. Happy you seem to enjoy reading the story because I sure enjoy writing it._**

**_And as said, at least five chapters. This is not the last either..._**

**_Oh, just heard the absolute perfect song for the Spanish chapters of the story, captures that hot summer holiday romance so perfectly. Just love it and now can't stop listening to it on repeat: Shawn Mendes/Camila Cabello – Señorita. The song for this chapter has to be Tove Lo – Glad he's gone._**

**_X_**

* * *

**Chapter 6: He'll regret what he let pass him by**

* * *

I'm standing in the office toilet, staring at myself in the mirror, a devastated girl with coffee stains all over her white silk blouse and light grey pencil skirt. Half an hour ago life was fine, now it is disaster. The look on _his_ face told me everything, he was as shocked to see me as I was to see him. _He hasn't come here for me._

I'm waiting for Jackie to answer the text I just sent her, doubting I will be able to leave this room until she does.

«EMERGENCY! Carlos is in my office except he ain't Carlos but some bloody hotshot who's gonna work here! Locked up in toilet. What to do? HELP!»

Right now, I can't see myself ever going back in there.

I followed the smashed cups to the floor, crouched and started picking up the pieces with trembling hands whilst my thoughts were spinning madly.

"Molly, are you alright? Did you burn yourself?" I heard Anna ask like from afar or as if I had cotton in my ears. "Please leave it be, I'll call for the cleaners to come and clean it up."

But I couldn't stop. I needed something to focus on, something to direct my attention to here on the floor, so I wouldn't have to stand up and face him because as I'm fiddling with the porcelain pieces, I buy myself time to piece the whole thing together in my head.

Unless there is a doppelganger (unlikely), this is Carlos standing here in Anna's office, except his name really is Charles James and he speaks English. He even speaks it better than me with that bloody posh accent, which means that for some reason he chose not to when we were together. Why would he do that? The only answer I can come up with is; _because he didn't want to talk to me_. Because he wanted to shag me and nothing more. Such bad luck to run into me on the first day at his new job. If I hadn't just reached the conclusion he is an asshole, I might feel sorry for him.

Tanned, strong, familiar hands take hold of mine, steady them, make me stop picking up the sharp pieces.

"Please stop, you can cut yourself."

I look up in his face and the expression of concern would have me fooled if I didn't know now that he is an expert at feigning emotions. He is just as handsome as he was in Spain. The tan has faded slightly but is still there and he looks extremely smart in suit and shirt. He can stick his fake concern up his arse. I haven't hurt myself on the broken cups. _He_ is hurting me and I'm not taking orders from him.

"The cups won't hurt me", I snap, ignoring the mild electric current the touch of his hands sends through my body. I pull my hands away and can see that he gets what I mean when he lets go.

"He is right, Molly", Anna intervenes. "Please stop that and go clean yourself up a bit and drink some water. You don't look well at all."

So, I fled for the toilets and here I am still.

Jackie doesn't fail me and soon I hear the beep from a text.

«Is CARLOS locked up in the toilet?! By you?»

«No no! I'M in toilet, to escape him.»

«What?! How? Shiiiit! Can't stay there! Meet me in the bar at the corner of Stratton Street»

«Leave work?»

«This is a good reason if any. Say you're ill. I will.»

I actually don't feel well, and I absolutely don't feel mentally equipped to meet Carlos, or Charles, so pulling a sickie seems fully justified.

«OK. Leaving now.»

I press send, splash some cold water on my face, sneak by my desk for my tote and coat and then practically spurt to the lift. In the security behind the lift doors I text Anna that I feel sick and am going home. I hate lying to her, never have before. Never have bunked off work. It is all Carl... Charles' fault. Fuck fuckety fuck. I feel despair starting to give way to building anger.

Less than thirty minutes later, Jackie and I are seated by the counter in an almost empty bar. The evening guests have not started dropping in yet.

"Two tequilas", Jackie instructs the barman. I see him raise an eyebrow. He can probably spot someone drinking their sorrows away from miles ahead.

"What? No..." I try to protest, finding the idea of drinking tequila in the early afternoon a bit much.

"You need alcohol and you need something that works fast; tequila, jaeger, whisky; the booze of your choice doesn't matter but you need something strong. After that you're allowed to continue with wine and we can talk and drink for as long as you want."

"I'm allowed..." I start to object, but then realise she is right, I need this. "Okay, tequila will be fine."

Salt, tequila, lemon. I wince at the taste but quite like the burning heat in my throat and after necking another one I also feel my pulse slowing down slightly.

"Now, tell me from the start."

I tell her how Anna two weeks ago announced she had employed a guy who will more or less be her right hand, how she has been super excited about his combination of leadership experience gained in the Army, his proven business skills and what she thinks is a great personality. She has been looking forward to him starting working for us like a kid looking forward to Christmas. Today he came - and it was Carlos.

"No fucking way! Are you sure? It wasn't just someone looking a lot like him and you mistook him for Carlos? I mean… you have thought of him _a lot_."

"No, no way. Identical except now he was dressed in suit and I _know_ he recognised me."

"He said?"

"No, but the look on his face when I came in, like someone was pulling an unpleasant practical joke on him. He knew I was me and I was apparently the last person he had expected to see. He looked shell-shocked already before I made a spectacle of myself dropping that tray."

"So, he didn't join the company because he knew you worked there?"

"No, whatever his reason is to work for Anna, it has nothing to do with me. I never mentioned where I work and the e-mail address I gave him was my private. The one he chose not to use even if he obviously speaks English..."

"But why would he do that, pretend not to understand?"

"To shag me without having to speak to me? A fling without giving any promises?" I bury my face in my hands. "Oh, Jackie, all the things I said because I didn't think he understood."

"Maybe it wasn't that bad?"

"Don't you remember? We talked about him on the beach, how gorgeous he was. How we'd like to pinch his biceps, count his abs to see if he had a six-pack or maybe twelve. Then I told him more of the same right to his face the first evening we met. In bed I told him how incredibly right it felt to be with him. That I hadn't been with someone like that since my boyfriend and best friend cheated on me, but he made me feel both safe and turned on. So pathetic! And I said more things along the same line. I'm absolutely mortified to think he understood all that and said nothing in return, probably laughed his pants off inside, thinking what a naïve and easy to get little shag I was. Now I have to see him every day at work! We just got rid of creepy Ian, but this is far worse."

"You're not the one who has done anything wrong. He played a false and very cruel game."

"I know! But I'm so embarrassed that I fell for it. Fell for his charms and thought I was special to him, thought _we_ were special and in the end, he is no better than Artan. I really would like to punch that chiselled jaw of his."

"You should."

"I should, shouldn't I? I'm so FURIOUS with him."

We drink.

"Still as chiselled?"

"Still", I sigh.

"Fuck."

Despite the misery we burst into fits of laughter because it is quite difficult to imagine me being successful taking a swing at the giant who is Charles James in a way that would have any impact on that perfect jawline.

"Seriously, what should I do?"

"Drink more wine."

"I'm on it, but after that?"

"I take it you don't want to have a huge argument with him at work, since Anna treasures him and you have to keep working with him."

"No. Right."

"Then… go back to work and be very cool, very professional and distant towards him and most important; at all times be very sexy. To punish him, show him what he is missing out on for being a bastard."

I snort out some wine, but who cares, my clothes already need dry cleaning after the coffee incident.

"Be _sexy_? You always say I'm not dressing hot enough. I can't just change style at work right when a handsome guy has started, then everyone would think I'm chasing after him."

"Molls, I'm only ever telling you that you need to loosen up your style when you're _off work_. Your work outfits are already every man's wet office dream. You don't realise how hot you are in your delicate blouses, pencil skirts and heels and I never told you because I knew you didn't want to know. You're totally showing off that petite figure of yours without even knowing it. It doesn't work when we go clubbing, but at work you don't have to change anything except maybe unbutton another button in your blouse..."

"I won't!" I'm blushing. I haven't aimed to be hot at work but that explains why so many guys there have come on to me. I have been dressing completely wrong for not mixing work and romance. The good thing is that I according to Jackie just have to keep doing the same.

"Okay, fine then, but continue as you have been. I read somewhere that Prince Harry first fell for Meghan Markle because she was dressing so hot in 'Suits' and that's just like you."

"No, you didn't", I giggle.

"Maybe I didn't, but it _could_ be true. Seeing you every day in the office, he'll be sorry for what he let pass him by. I mean, after all you are taken now. You have Alex."

Right, Alex. Almost forgot about him in all this mess but it is true that I'm dating cute, nice guy. Great! Then Charles will absolutely have no reason to think I'm into him. Which I'm not. I was quickly cured from any lingering infatuation the moment I realised he had been stringing me along. He may remain the best shag I ever had, but everything else was just pretence from his end and not worth grieving. I will make him regret treating me like shit though, by proving I'm the hottest most brilliant PA anyone has ever seen. Laughs best who laughs last.

"Let's drink to that then." And we do. Jackie truly knows what to do when I need BFF support.

I'm not laughing next morning. I wake up with the worst hangover in history. At least _my_ history. We ended the evening getting pissed out of our nuts. After some (a lot of) wine we went back to tequila and I appreciated the Mexican shot more and more as the evening went on. Shit, I think I'm still drunk. After a quick run to the toilet to get rid of the fish and chips we had on the way home as an attempt to level out the alcohol consumption (seemed like brilliant idea at the time, now less so), I realise I have to call in sick. There is no way I can function at work like this. There is no way I would face Charles like this.

"I think it is some stomach bug. I don't feel well at all, just vomited", I say to Anna and stay as close to the truth as possible.

"You poor thing. You looked like you were about to faint yesterday, so I thought you might have caught something. Remember that you should stay away from people for 48 hours after the last time you vomit, so I don't want you back here in the next days. Probably best if you don't return until Monday."

My bad conscience is at max level.

"But will you manage?"

"It will be tough without you, but I will manage", she chuckles. "I will miss you though. Much of my time I will spend getting Charles up to speed. His CV speaks for itself, but he seems nice too, don't you think? He was quite concerned for you yesterday."

Yeah, right, concerned for me. Concerned we will be working in the same place and I know he is really a jerk and maybe rat him out to everyone is more likely.

"Suddenly I feel very nauseous. Sorry, I have to run!"

"Hope you get well soon, take care Molly."

I hang up and feel bad for lying to her again but very relieved I have put off meeting Charles again until next Monday. I wish Anna wasn't so excited about him and hadn't such high hopes about being able to delegate things to him, so she can spend more time with her family. If he was just any employer, maybe I would have told her what an absolute dickhead he is. Now I will keep my mouth shut and just avoid him best I can whilst trying my best to be distant, professional and alluring. My new mantra. Today I feel everything but and the sad hangover remnant of me puts herself back in bed and remain there for the day. For the better part of the next days too, to be honest.

I have spent most of my awake hours thinking of Carlos a.k.a. Charles. I don't want to, but I do. I replay every single moment we had together, from the way he first looked at me to how we made love, because even in the light of what I know now it didn't feel like a cheap shag. Not one bit. My whole body still feels flushed when I think of his hands caressing me gently, then holding my buttocks firmly when he was inside of me, holding me harder as he increased the pace until we reached the pinnacle together. It felt like there was no lie hidden in that kind of silence, when we spoke no words, and I find it hard to take in how fucking economical he actually was being with the truth. I wish there was a valid explanation that still made him a good guy, but I know it is 100% more likely that there isn't. He fooled me he couldn't speak English, he slept with me and then never contacted me. Those are the indisputable facts. It makes me sad, it makes me angry. I have to try to stick with cool anger.

I want to be alone with the exception of Jackie, so at first I tell Alex too that I'm ill, but by the weekend it seems unlikely that I still would be sick, and I reluctantly let him come over. Say I still feel too weak to go out for dinner or cinema or whatever. I'm not in the mood for that. I'm not in the mood for him either, but when he comes he actually cheers me up more than I thought was possible.

When I open the door to let him in, I'm met by a huge smile, a fantastic bouquet of flowers and a box of my favourite chocolate. Very perceptive of him to remember I told him what they were.

"So glad you're feeling better. I have missed my girlfriend."

He steps closer and gives me an intensive kiss, which gives me time to arrange my features not to look so surprised. We haven't called each other that before; boyfriend and girlfriend. Didn't know that we had passed from the dating stage to that, but apparently Alex feels confident that we have. It feels a bit strange, but not entirely unpleasant. On the contrary it feels good to be wanted and appreciated, so I shake off the strangeness and tell myself how lucky I am to have a boyfriend like him when there are so many jerks out there. I should hold on to him.

Later in my bed, I try to be as passionate with him as I was with Carlos, try to lose myself in him, let go of all restraints. I know I fail. I think far too much, feel far too little, but he seems happy enough as he grunts my name releasing and affectionately spoons me afterwards. When he sleeps I move away a bit, just to get some space so I can look at his sleeping form. The blue eyes are closed and the blonde eyelashes resting against his smooth cheeks, the equally blonde hair is dishevelled from our previous activities. He doesn't have such an extremely fit body as Carl… Charles, but he is lean and definitely looks good naked. He looks peaceful and very cute. I'm so lucky to have him. Tomorrow I will be the world's best girlfriend and not waste another second thinking about Charles James.

* * *

Monday morning comes far too soon, and I finally have to take the bull by its horns and I do so dressed in black top, black pencil skirt and black stilettoes. I look dangerously seductive. That is at least what Jackie encouragingly tells me. Not sure I agree, but I do feel fierce. Until I step out of the lift and realise I may meet him any second now. My work used to be my safe haven, the place where I had control of everything and there were no emotional surprises because I never let it be. When Anna forced me to go on holiday and then hired Charles James, it fucked things up monumentally. I don't blame her though. I blame me. I never should have allowed myself to get emotionally involved with a stranger. To resolve the issue, I simply need to stick to my rule never to mix work and emotions. I take a deep breath, think 'you can do this Molls!' and step out through the lift doors. This is _my_ office, my territory and Charles James will not ruin it for me. He will regret what he let pass him by so much that he will want to leave this place. Then everything will be like it was before.


	7. Never I'm playing your game

**_A/N: As always, thanks for the lovely support your reviews is! Enjoying my last week of annual leave for now, so I probably should wrap up this holiday story, but it still keeps expanding in my mind. Probably because I like this version of Molly and CJ. I forgot to say in the first chapter, but they always belong to Tony Grounds and BBC and I'm just borrowing them for a while because I love to. xxx_**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Never I'm playing your game**

* * *

I don't run into Charles on the way to my desk. In fact, I manage to avoid him until it is time for the monthly staff meeting where the entire office participates. As I have been busy staying out of his sight, I arrive last minute and find myself a place leaning against the wall at the back of the room. From here I have a good view over him, standing in the front talking to Anna with his back turned to me. I take in the broad shoulders under the perfectly fitted suit and the dark, now neatly cut hair, and try not to think of how it felt to cling on to that muscular back or bury my fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck when his hair was longer, to hold him to me when he was on top of me and moved and... just shit! I have to stop thinking about it. Alex. I should think about Alex, or that I need to order new paper clips when I get back to my desk.

I look around in the room and judging by the facial expression of at least half of the women in here, their thoughts a straying in the same direction. They sit with eyes fixed on the gorgeous newcomer and a look of yearning, but hopefully it is only me who has experienced him up close for real. But who knows, he has been here a week and _we_ did _a lot_ in less time than so. Maybe he has been efficient and already shagged one or two of my colleagues. The thought makes me nauseous.

I return my attention to the front of the room just as he turns around and I can see that he momentarily freezes as his gaze falls on me. His eyes narrow slightly as he takes me in, wander along my length from top to toe and back again. I stretch my back and pray I look very nonchalant and hot leaning here in my all black outfit and stilettos. I already feel the shoes will kill me standing up for the full hour this meeting lasts, so they'd better be worth it. Even if I often wear heels to work, I seldom go for killer heels like these I've borrowed from Jackie, but she claimed that when you go to war you must do it dressed to the nines.

I don't break eye contact and the cheeky bastard tries a little smile. I meet it with my best stone-faced, even if my stomach flutters. Disappointment passes briefly over his face before he turns to Anna again. What did he expect, really?

The first topic on today's agenda is a formal introduction of _him_. Anna looks flushed with happy excitement. It is seldom we get to see this side of her, normally the cool business woman and CEO in control of everything, and it makes me cringe that it is over Charles. I hope he will not turn out as false in business as he obviously is in love.

"I think most of you have seen Charles James already during the week he has been here with us, but I'd like to take this opportunity to formally welcome him to Ethica Trading. We are so pleased to have you here Charles. I'll let you introduce yourself to the staff."

"Thank you, Anna."

He beams a disarming smile over the room, shoves his hands in his trouser pockets and starts talking. He looks comfortable, confident and damn sexy.

Most of what he tells us I already know from his CV, but it is a different thing to hear it from him. To realise that the awaited business prodigy really is Carlos/Charles. Not that he brags, I must admit that he tells his story in a quite modest manner. He makes it sound like spending his adolescence in a posh boarding school made him long for a life that was more authentic and to create himself a second family, one he could connect to in a different way than he did with the wealthy boys he was surrounded by.

"Don't get me wrong, I consider myself very fortunate to have had the privilege of such education, but even if it gave me a solid foundation I felt I searched for something else, something real and genuine. And even if I'm close to my parents, I don't have any siblings and I guess I've always searched for good people to fill that space. I never found it in that environment."

Had I not known the grown-up version of him is a scoundrel, my heart would be melting now for the lonely boy looking for his place in the world.

"Somehow, I figured the Army would be the place where I could find both this brotherhood or what you wish to call it, and some kind of higher purpose, so I decided to become an officer. Went through Sandhurst, then was deployed to Afghanistan. Strange as it may seem, I thoroughly enjoyed this life. Being a soldier is so much more than holding a gun. I felt I made a difference, enjoyed the camaraderie with the other soldiers, the simple of life in the field. I have never felt so at home, so I went on one tour after another."

He paused, his gazed fixed in a distance, maybe the Afghan mountains in his mind. I wouldn't mind if he went back there, grew a beard and pretended he was Taliban instead of Spanish.

"Of course, there is a different side to it. It is war, not a game and people I cared about, who were in my charge, were injured and killed. That took an emotional toll on me even if I didn't want to admit it at the time. What made me leave in the end was that I was injured myself, so I was medically discharged. I still miss it sometimes though, life on tour."

He shrugs his shoulders and smiles almost apologetically.

I reminisce the scar on his thigh, hidden by his bathing trunks but visible when he was naked. White against his otherwise tanned skin and smooth like aged scars often become. As I couldn't ask him about it I had only touched it softly with my fingertips until he interrupted me with a hungry kiss and I forgot all about it. He sure doesn't seem to have any problems to _move_ these days. A war injury, the last thing I would have guessed, and I'm reminded yet again that I don't know him at all.

"I was too young and restless not to come up with another career option so already during rehab I started studying for an MBA. Pretty soon I began working for a competitor of yours and for some time I enjoyed it, enjoyed a more civilised life here at home..."

His words trail off and now he looks serious. His expressive eyebrows are frowned, and he rakes his fingers through his hair.

"I won't go into detail but then a series of events in my private life and at work made me scrutinize my life and I realised I wasn't happy with what I saw. Somehow, I had slowly slid away from that authenticity I wanted. I realised I had to do something about it to stay true to myself and I decided for a timeout. I quit my job, left everything behind, went away..."

He pauses again, and I'm surprised when his eyes search for mine. I won't fall for this, for this game whatever it is. He obviously went away to Spain, pretended to be Spanish and shagged his way to feel better again. So why is my heart thumping so hard in my chest? Why do I feel like I want to rush over to him and wrap my arms around him? Then I shift my gaze to Mary from accounting and Teresa from the reception see that they feel _exactly_ the same. He is bloody good at this and I harden myself. He won't fool me again.

"I stayed away for well over a year, then Anna contacted me almost simultaneous to some other events that made me think it was time to return home. I had of course heard of Ethica Trading before and the more I spoke with Anna, the more convinced I was that this was the kind of company I want to work for. A company with a heart and soul and an ambition to do things in a fair way, not only maximizing profit. So, here I am and I'm very glad that you want me."

I almost hear a collective female sigh in the room. Oh yes, they want him. So pathetic.

"If there are any questions, I'm happy to answer them", he finishes off with a warm smile, exuding earnest.

If this was a movie, this would be the cue for me to stand up and say 'I object, he's a fraud', but this isn't a movie and come to think of it, that usually happens only during the wedding scene when the vicar say they should speak now or forever hold their peace. I should keep quiet.

He looks slightly rattled when he sees my hand raised in the air, but he can't ignore it.

"Yes? Molly was it?"

As if he doesn't know. Or maybe he actually forgot between Spain and last Monday.

"Just out of curiosity; your CV is obviously brilliant, and my understanding is you're fluent in both Italian and Spanish and you almost look Spanish..." I hear dispersed giggles in the room, "...but am I correct to understand that you're actually _British_ and _English_ is your native language?"

Anna shoots me a curious look, but I put on my most innocent big-eyed face and anyway it is so worth it because I don't ever think I have seen a man blush in the way Charles James does right now.

"Yes, that is correct", he answers tersely after clearing his throat.

"I find that so impressive, to be multi-lingual. Me, I'm stuck with boring old English", I say sweetly.

"Aren't you taking a Spanish course, Molly?" Anna asks. Shit, I didn't intend to share that information since the reason for me doing that...

"Just wanted to say that I'm very impressed with people who can change between languages like they were chameleons, because I sure can't."

"I think we all are, no need to be bashful Charles." Seems she noticed his change of facial colour. "So, any more questions to Charles besides his language skills?"

Plenty, but they are not suited for this audience. I see his shoulders relax when no more questions come from me, only a few harmless ones from others before Anna rounds off.

"As you know, I have up to now held the combined role of Chief Executive Officer and President of Ethica Trading, but the company has now grown to the size where it is impossible for me to maintain both roles, do a good job and have a private life. Therefore, Charles will take the role as President and Chief Operating Officer, thus taking responsibility for day-to-day operations, meanwhile I remain CEO. I'm convinced this will be a great solution for this company to remain successful and continue to grow."

People in the room nod and look like they are approving it, even applauding a bit. I think it is only me who feels slightly nauseous again. Maybe I should order such paper bags for vomiting they had on the plane when I'm at it ordering paper clips. Feels like it may come in handy whenever Charles is near.

"Let's move on to the next item on the agenda", Anna says, now with a grim face. "This topic has unfortunately become actualised by recent events here in the office. I'm referring to sexual harassment. I want to remind everyone of our company policy; that we have absolutely _zero tolerance_ for that kind of behaviour and as I think you are aware, the man who in this case had harassed a female colleague for some time, was fired on the spot when it came to my attention. I want this to be a great place to work where everyone can feel comfortable and safe. It is not forbidden to have a relationship with another person working here, but in addition to the expectation to show tact and discretion whilst being in the office, it must of course also be a mutual wish from both parties to enter into a relationship. If one party makes it clear that any advances are unwelcome, they must stop _immediately_. No one should ever feel harassed in this office and these rules apply to _everyone_. I hope I make myself perfectly clear."

I don't have anything to worry about in that department, have only done my best to dodge proposals though none has really crossed the line in my case. Not even creepy Ian before he was fired, even if I hated the way he looked at me.

Then I meet Charles gaze, now intensely fixed on me and it is my turn to feel flushed because it is like in my mind I'm suddenly flipping through a Rolodex of all the X-rated things we have done together. Worst of all, I can see in his dark eyes that it is the same for him. His lips on my heated skin, my hand wrapped around his hard length moving until he groans, me straddling him, he behind me holding me tight to him, it all flashes by. This time I look away. He can forget something like it ever happening in this office, not with me anyway and as he just heard from Anna, he had better keep things in check here or he'll be out on his arse quicker than he can count to three. He may think he can cajole me into something, but for one thing I know what he is like now and secondly, we're in _my_ office now and I'll stick to _my_ rules. Not even his chocolate brown eyes, dashing face or delicious body will change that. If he thinks of misbehaving with someone else he had better be careful, because I intend to watch him like a hawk for any reason to have him sent away.

When the meeting is over, Anna waves me to come over to her and Charles and I reluctantly go there, realising it doesn't really matter if I postpone meeting him as I will have to each and every day what with him being our new COO.

"So glad you're feeling well again. The office is a mess without you", Anna smiles.

Even if I know that isn't quite true I'm gratefully lapping up the praise, well aware he is listening.

"Thank you, it feels good to be back. You know me, I get restless when I'm not here", I answer lightly.

"I know." She laughs and turns to Charles. "Molly is my most conscientious employee. I even had to force her to go on holiday this summer."

"Is that so?" He cocks an eyebrow. "Didn't you find it addictive once you were there, on holiday?"

"No. At first, I thought so, but then I realised it was actually a bit shit. Holiday isn't my bag. Work is."

Anna frowns her brow at my quite snappy answer and I realise I need to be nicer to him when she is present.

"This is such a great work place you see. I think you'll find you have chosen the right place, to match your high ethical standards I mean", I add with my sweetest smile and he has the decency to look embarrassed again.

"Anyway, I want you to help Charles with something."

"I thought you said I would keep working only for you?" I'm not proud of the distress I can't keep away from my voice.

"Oh, you will. That's why I need you to assist Charles to find a PA of his own. He won't manage without one and I'm sure you can help him find a star like yourself. Charles, I normally take Molly's advice whenever I hire someone new. Maybe you were lucky she was out of office the week when you had your interview, so you didn't have to go through her scrutiny. Maybe you wouldn't have passed through the eye of the needle."

She chuckles at her own joke, sure he would have passed. Charles and I join in the laughter, but avoid looking at each other, knowing well that he certainly hadn't.

"I can spare you for an hour right now, so why don't you go with Charles and discuss his needs right away?"

"His needs?"

"My needs?"

We exclaim simultaneously.

"What requirements you have for your PA Charles. Molly is the perfect PA for _me,_ but you may have other needs."

"I'm quite sure someone like Molly would suit me just fine", he mumbles. I get goosebumps but shake it off. I can't allow him to play me.

"Anna is right, you may obviously wish for someone completely different than me. You don't really know me, haven't seen me in action at work and may require someone entirely different, so let's find out, shall we?"

"Okay, my office then."

He jerks his head towards his room, Anna smiles happily, and I know I'm expected to go with him even if I much had preferred staying out in the open office space. My knees are a bit wobbly as I follow him but thank god the door is open, so we won't be able to have any unpleasant conversation I'm not prepared for.

"Will you please close the door after you."

His deep, posh twat voice makes it sound like an order. Crap.


	8. Disappointing discovery of a playboy

**Chapter 8: Disappointing discovery of a playboy**

* * *

I close the door behind me and turn around to face him. For a few moments I remain with my back pressed against the door, like the solidness of the surface can anchor me and give me strength. At some feet's distance we silently stare each other out. Take in this version of one another, the version in neat workwear instead of beach outfit, sleek hair instead of tousled and no sand between the toes. No nakedness in sight. He looks like he was born into that suit because it fits him like a second skin and he is so overwhelmingly handsome. He seems a bit apprehensive and he should be, because I'm absolutely fuming.

Finally, he breaks eye contact, sits down behind his desk and gestures towards the chair in front of it.

"Please, have a seat.

"I prefer standing."

His eyes narrow, realising this will not be a pleasant conversation and I have the feeling that people usually do as he tells them to, so maybe my resistance bothers him too. I prefer standing position as it will leave me taller than him and I don't intend to stay long anyway.

"If you say so. I'm glad I'm not the one wearing stilettos."

He tries a friendly smile, tries bonding. He can forget that.

"Fuck off", I say in calm, low voice between gritted teeth.

His eyebrows raise in astonishment and he blinks.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me. I had to say that once, behind closed door to make sure you understand how I feel about you, Charles or Carlos or whatever your name really is."

"It's Charles. Molly, please let me explain."

His brown eyes are pleading like a puppy's, but I hold up my hand to silence him.

"Remember my name now, do you?"

He swallows, I can see his Adam's apple lurching, but I don't give him the opportunity to speak.

"We spent time together, days, nights. We slept together, not once but..."

I interrupt myself because no need to remind ourselves about that in detail and anyway I'm not sure how many, because there were countless times during that amazing night and morning.

"...many times... and I told you things I never... and in all that time you pretended you couldn't speak or understand English! We said goodbye and you left me still believing that. Who does such a shitty thing?! You had my phone number and e-mail and you didn't contact me once. You've had plenty of opportunities to explain if you really cared to."

I pause the stream of upset words only to inhale. I don't tell him how I missed him, how my body ached for him because it felt like he was a piece of a puzzle that fit to me so perfectly and I had been bereaved of him. He doesn't need to know that.

"Then you appear here at my job like a genie in the bottle and magically speaks perfect English. You tricked me in a very ugly way and it isn't that difficult to figure out the motives. Now I regret precisely _everything_ about that bloody holiday."

"I bet you don't regret the tomato sandwich", he muses.

"What? Do you think this is funny?"

"Sorry, it just slipped off my tongue, but I remembered how you really loved the tomatoes, and olive oil. I don't mean to be funny, I _do_ take this seriously. I guess it's just... in Spain you would have laughed about it."

I just stare at him. Is he mad?

"That was then and now is now and you know why. It wasn't _me_ who changed things."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said..."

The amusement is gone from his face as he realises he just put his foot deeper in it.

"I think you have so much worse things to be sorry for. I don't want to have anything to do with someone who plays the kind of games you do. So, pardon my language now that you apparently understand it, but you can really _fuck off_."

Even if I have kept my voice low and controlled throughout, he looks shocked when I repeat it.

"Molly, I..."

"Do you know how much I want to hear your explanation? This much!" I measure a millimetre between my thumb and my index finger. "I don't want you here in this office because you're an asshole who led me on and I wouldn't trust you for anything. By now it's too late for any explanation, I don't care. I have a boyfriend, a fantastic, caring boyfriend who doesn't pretend he doesn't speak my language and I don't have any interest in being part of your stupid games."

His body somehow seems to stiffen when I mention Alex. Mohaha, right in his face I'm not free to be screwed over again.

"Molly, it wasn't..." he tries to chip in but I'm in a flow now.

"I'm not interested in any relationship with you besides what is forced upon me because of work. The others may buy your speech about being authentic and genuine, but I know it is bullshit. I'll keep up appearances, be civil to you for Anna's sake, because she has such high hopes for you, but that's all. Don't ever try to be personal with me or I'll tell everyone what you're really like, a two-faced dickhead. You heard Anna before, the company policy applies to _everyone_. If you approach me in any way that is out of the professional boundaries, when I have made it clear I don't want you to, you will be out on your arse, COO or not. She knows I would never lie so if I tell her the truth she would believe me, never doubt that. So, don't approach me more than absolutely necessary for work. I'll help you find a PA, then stay out of your way as much as I possibly can. All I ask is that you stay out of mine too."

His eyes are dark, his jaw clenched. I think my message has gone through.

"Fine, as you wish. I wish you would at least listen to what I have to say but as you so blatantly refuse..."

With a frustrated sigh, he leans back in his chair, running his fingers through his curls. "Should we talk about my PA then?"

" I think I can figure out what you need in that department. I'll make a call to the temp agency we always use, and they send us someone on trial."

"Okay, then that is settled. Can I just say..."

God he is persistent. Can the man please give up or I will have to chop my ears off.

"No, you can't. Whatever lame excuse you have for lying to me and then not contacting me, I don't want to hear it. It doesn't matter now. My life has moved on perfectly fine and I frankly couldn't care less about a holiday fling. I'll say one more thing before we leave this subject behind forever; I think you are despicable."

Abruptly he gets to his feet, his face is hard and I'm glad he has been sitting all this time because I don't feel as confident when he is looking down on me from his impressive height with arms now folded across his chest.

"You have made your point very clear, Miss Dawes. Very clear indeed. If you are done venting your feelings, I suggest that from now on you show more decorum speaking to me, as I am your superior in the role as COO of this company. No, let me rephrase that; I _expect_ you to."

"Don't worry, I can assure you I will speak to you as little as I can."

We fight a battle with our gazes. His is piercing but I don't want to fold down even if I know it isn't clever at all to make a boss my enemy. I have the urge to poke my tongue at him. Instead, I storm out but have the presence of mind to close the door carefully, not slamming it and walk to the toilet in calm and composed manner. There I slump down in one of the cubicles. I'm still angry but I'm also totally miserable. Now when the adrenaline rush subsides, I feel like crying, but I don't. I hate this, I hate that work suddenly is mixed up with all sorts of unwelcome emotions. I text Jackie, my lifeline.

{BAD morning :( Wine needed tonight. LOTS of it!}

{Tell me ALL about it later. I'll get the wine.}

It isn't time to go home yet though, I need to live through this workday. So, I stop feeling sorry for myself and instead inhale and exhale deeply ten times, adjust my clothes, take a look in the mirror to make sure I look proper and realise I actually look pretty stunning. Black suits me and so does rage apparently. My green eyes are still flashing with fury. Well, then. Time to find him a PA.

Back at my desk I make sure no one listens before I call the temp agency we always use. My contact there, Suzy, and I have almost become friends and we chat for a while before I tell her what we need this time.

"I'm looking for a PA."

"You're not leaving, are you?"

"No, it is for a recently hired boss. I'm staying where I am."

"We would miss working with you if you left."

"Don't worry, I don't plan to. I have a special request this time though."

"Okay?"

"This boss is something of a jerk, so could you send someone who is... skilled below average?"

Suzy snorts with laughter. Otherwise she knows only to send me top notch people, or I'll return them in no time telling her to send someone better. This request is really something out of the ordinary coming from me.

" I take it is a _he_? You really must dislike him?"

"Yes, and you can say so."

"I'm very curious what he has done, maybe you can tell me over a drink sometime. I wouldn't want you as my enemy working in that office. Anyway, no problem, I'll find someone less skilled than average and send over tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, looking forward to it."

My revenge will be in the small things, so he barely even knows what I'm doing, but he will want to leave this place sooner rather than later.

* * *

"I'm sorry Molls, explain to me again; WHY didn't you let him tell you his explanation? I'm not saying you have to buy it, but why didn't you want to _hear_ it when you finally had the chance?"

Already before Jackie said it, I was starting to wonder if I in my fit of rage had made a huge mistake when I refused to listen to him. I don't feel better now and take a swig of my glass of red wine.

"I was mad, because he's there and so damn good-looking and puts on this act of being all genuine and honest when I know it's the last thing he is. Everyone loves him, Anna loves him, and they don't know what a fraud he is, but I do. That makes me so furious! In a way I'm regretting I didn't let him explain but I was afraid he would just manipulate me again then. Make me trust him when he shouldn't be trusted."

"Oh, Molly. You're afraid you'll fall for him again, but I don't think you're that gullible. You could hear him out without being in any immediate danger."

"I didn't use to think that I was easily fooled. Now I don't know anymore. I can't allow myself to be part of his game, need to keep things strictly professional, because I know in my heart there can't be a good and valid explanation for his behaviour towards me. There just can't be. Wish there was, but no."

"Are you absolutely sure? What if he is a decent bloke?"

"He can't be. And anyway, I have made my point and can't go back and say I have changed my mind and want to hear what he has to say. That would be humiliating if anything."

"No, I suppose you can't. Pity." Jackie thinks for a moment. "Have you googled him?"

"Err, no."

I don't know why I didn't think of it. Before I knew his name was Charles James, I tried to google 'Carlos Frigiliana', but the only hit was for a beautiful holiday villa for rental, but I haven't tried with his real name.

"Are you kidding me? Why didn't you do that to prepare for today? I was so sure you had that I didn't even ask. I'm disappointed in your prep Molls. This is like homework you must do to know who you're up against. When you go to war you must..."

"... be dressed to the nines. You already told me."

"No, you must know your enemy! That's even more important."

She has left the sofa and gone for the laptop. I notice she takes a few sideway steps extra. Neither of us is sober.

"Okay, let's see then."

She types in 'Charles James'. That is too unspecific, our first hit is a couture designer who makes very beautiful dresses but not what we are interested in. Then we try refining the search by adding British Army/Officer/Captain and there he is. There are photos of him in combat gear with camouflage paint in his face looking very grim, masculine and hot, and other photos when he is wearing what apparently is called no. 1 dress uniform, looking extremely handsome and, again, hot. When I meet his brown eyes on the screen I can't help biting my lip.

"He _is _bloody gorgeous", Jackie says.

"I know."

"I mean, I would be willing to forgive him quite a bit just to get under him again."

"You're supposed to be on my side Jackie!"

"Just saying."

"Don't. Please."

We change the search to his name combined with his previous employer and now there are many hits, leading on to others when we click on them both photos and online magazine articles appear unfolding part of his life. There are job related pictures where he looks much like he did today and articles where he is described as a young business genius, but also lots of photos on celebrity pages and Instagram where he seems to be part of a partying jet set crowd. There is champagne bottles and fancy cocktails in trendy bars where everyone looks rich, cool and beautiful. There are always stunning women by his side, dressed in clothes and jewellery probably worth more than my monthly salary, looking up on him adoringly. Especially one supermodel material, blonde girl is recurring, with her well-manicured hand possessively placed on his arm. I don't like her. We scroll among the photos and then there is one of the two looking like they are really pissed with each other, definitely not holding hands. Jackie clicks on that one. 'It-couple Charles James and Rebecca St. Clair split up' says the headline. It shouldn't matter to me, but instead of feeling happy they split up, it makes my stomach churn again thinking he has been with a girl like that and maybe many others of the amazing girls in those photos. I'm so far from all of that. An easy prey. I close the lid of the laptop.

"What are you doing? That was a goldmine of gossip."

"I know, but I just have to glance at it to have it confirmed that his talk about being genuine is just for show. He is a playboy Jackie. Was then, was in Spain and no doubt is now too. It just makes me sick to see him with all those girls and realise that I was just another one in line, ready to throw myself around his neck."

Jackie looks seriously at me.

"But when you told me about your days together, it never seemed like that. You two seemed different."

"It _felt _different, that is why it hurts that it apparently wasn't. Anyway, I just have to stand working with him. I have Alex, I have moved on."

"Yeah, you have."

Don't know why she gives me that odd look and doesn't sound convinced.

"Time to go to bed. I have to be at the office early to welcome his new PA tomorrow, that will be a fun surprise for him I hope."

"What did you do Molls?"

"Just asked the temp agency not to send the best they have. I know that a bad PA is extremely frustrating."

We laugh and slightly drunk hit the bed, but I find it hard to fall asleep. There is something that bothers me about all those party pictures of him, something in addition to all the girls, but I can't pinpoint what. Finally, I fall asleep and dream of him in that navy coloured uniform. I'm fumbling with the brass buttons and he urges me to unbutton them faster whilst pressing his lips to my neck, nibbling my earlobe and then I wake up and it hits me what disturbed me with all the photos. In none of them he looked happy, not like he did with me. Not like he looked happy when we walked hand in hand on the balcony, made out in the sea, had dinner at Esquina Paulina or made love in his bed. All that time he looked as happy as I felt, and he didn't look one bit like that in the photos.

* * *

**A/N: So question is, did he deserve it or not?**


	9. A very bad idea

**Chapter 9: A very bad idea**

* * *

Already when I catch a first glimpse of her I know my clever plan has backfired. Big time.

Charles is already in his office. He swept past my desk earlier, looking dashing in grey suit, shirt and perfectly knotted tie, politely said good morning to me like to everyone else and asked me to bring the new PA to his office when she or he arrived.

I'm wearing a white sleeveless bodycon dress from the Ted Baker sale, paired with black heels and look chaste and sexy combined. Jackie's words, not mine. Doesn't matter because he didn't really bother looking at me and when the others got a smile, I got a stern-face with the hello. He did exactly what I have requested; acted strictly professional without wasting one superfluous word or look on me besides what is required to get the job done. I couldn't help feeling disappointed since he has spent the night urging me to rip off his no. 1 dress uniform, groaning my name, making me moan his until I sat bolt upright, sweaty and grateful Alex was not there next to me in the bed wondering what the hell I was doing. I don't understand why I dreamt all that because I'm clearly not attracted to him IRL anymore. Charles, I mean, not Alex. I'm obviously super attracted to Alex and he really is the best boyfriend ever.

Last evening, he offered to come over and give me some massage after my first day back at work, but as Jackie and I had agreed to drink wine and talk over the day's events I couldn't accept. Lucky, because it would have been awkward if I said Charles' name when Alex was in my bed. I'm sure it was a one-off and will not happen again. Seeing all those pictures from his past got to me somehow, but now that I won't look at them anymore that won't be a problem.

I wonder if it is true that the IT department keeps track of all one's Google searches? Just asking for a friend, I don't Google anything not work related whilst at work. Though strictly speaking, googling the new boss must surely count as work related. I won't do it anyway, anyone could see my screen in the office space and a uniformed Charles all over the screen might be hard to explain.

I'm just done going through Anna's agenda for the day when I get a call from the downstairs reception telling me the new PA has arrived. Expectantly I ask them to send her up in the lift. I imagine she will be some absent-minded, middle-aged woman with frizzy hair and footright shoes who hasn't really warmed to any tech news since the fax. The doors slide open and there she is.

I give myself a mental slap for not being more specific in my requirements to Suzy. This woman may be below average when it comes to skills or brain, but her appearance is far from and I'm not the only one gawping as she glides (yes, glides on very high heels) through the lift doors into the office space. Last time I saw someone remotely as beautiful as her outside a glossy magazine was Wonder Woman at the beach in Spain. Her face is perfect; beautifully shaped with high cheekbones, full, soft pink lips, big brown eyes with the longest eye-lashes ever and almost unnaturally well-shaped eyebrows. Her hair is long and dark, her body delicate yet voluptuous. She simply looks surreal. My first thought is that I have to send her away at once, before anyone realises that she was supposed to work here.

Very untimely Charles pops out his head demanding;

"Has the PA arrived yet? Otherwise I need your help with a few things."

I should be relived to be off that hook but instead I'm appalled when I realise I have been too slow reacting, as the woman parts her perfect petal lips and says with purring voice.

"That would be me."

Charles' gaze shifts to her, takes in her sublime appearance, then back to me and makes a face like; 'Is _this_ the PA you got me? _Seriously_?' Probably he is congratulating himself to the most attractive PA in the country. Then he looks at her again and takes the hand she extends to greet him.

"I'm Georgia Lane", she says. "You can call me Georgie."

"Charles James."

"Oh, I know. I've seen you in magazines and on Instagram. Should I call you Charlie?"

He doesn't look impressed by the fact that she knows him from social media, but his voice is friendly when he answers.

"Charles will do just fine", then shows her inside his office. Before he joins her, he turns to me again.

"Thank you, Molly. Maybe you can show Georgie around and explain how things work after we have introduced ourselves?", he says with an expression which is hard to decipher, before he closes the door. This was so not what I had in mind and my stomach twists at the thought of them being alone in there, him and that beautiful creature. The only good thing about it is that when I set him up with a PA like that he must know for sure that I'm over our little fling. No pining for him here, absolutely none.

Later, I do as Charles asked me and I would have done anyway; show Georgie the ropes and try to get to know her simultaneously. Our two desks are placed next to one another outside Anna's and Charles' offices, so I will inevitably spend a lot of time with her, plus I'm quite curious about her. There is something both disturbing and endearing about Georgie. In addition to being annoying because she is in-your-face-smashing-beautiful, it doesn't take long to discover that she fulfils the other criteria I gave to Suzy for the PA candidate. She is clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed and a bit absent-minded added to that. During our little tour of the office I have to repeat things to her several times and I have the feeling I will have to repeat them again in the upcoming weeks. When I ask her how familiar she is with shared Outlook calendars, SharePoint online and Excel, she mumbles it is not her strong suit, but she is sure she will manage to assist Charles in the best possible way anyway because she has a high EQ. I almost can't hold back a smirk, she will be the perfect person to drive him crazy. Well, except for the part that she is so damn beautiful, and I hope she will not drive him crazy for all the (from my perspective) wrong reasons. However, despite her beauty and seeming a bit dim-witted, there is still something endearing about her. It may be her deer eyes, but she also seems very kind and eager to do a good job and she has a warm, slightly hoarse laughter which doesn't really fit with her looks. She looks like someone who only would giggle femininely and the first time she laughs out loud she really surprises me. She also shows evident signs of humour and I'm starting to think that maybe it will be fun working alongside her. Perhaps I have achieved killing two birds in one hit, finding a new colleague I like and one that will annoy the hell out of Charles. That would be an excellent combination. Maybe I won't regret this after all.

When Georgie has left for the day, Charles looks out from his office again, leaning casually in the doorway and I look up on him. His gaze on me is completely neutral. No improper lust flickers in the depth of his eyes, like it did in Spain.

"That was an interesting choice", he says in dry voice and my cheeks heat because I get the feeling he is on to me and my clever plan.

"What? Georgie you mean? I just asked the temp agency to send us the best one they had available."

"Is that so?" He doesn't sound convinced.

"What would I otherwise have said? Don't you think she is charming?"

I really, really hope he doesn't.

"Very charming indeed", he smirks.

"And you know, there is a trial period. If you don't think she fulfils your expectations we can have her replaced, but normally we let the trial period last at least three months for any new hires to give them a fair chance to make a good impression. Everyone is nervous and makes mistakes in the beginning."

That is not true, we normally have a trial period of one month but I'm hoping that after three months with Georgie plus me annoying him by all other possible methods I can think of, he will be ready to leave this office. Maybe I should try the old trick of placing a drawing pin on his chair someday, or would that be too obvious?

"Does that mean that I too have a three-month trial period, so I get a fair chance to make a good impression?"

My cheeks are heating again because I'm quite sure we are not talking only about the job anymore, but I refuse to acknowledge that we don't.

"I haven't seen your contract, but I'm sure that when it comes to a hot-shot like yourself there is no such trial period. Everyone just expects you to be great from day one."

"Everyone?" he cocks an eyebrow. "I don't think so."

Our eyes stay locked for a while and I don't think I'm breathing properly which would also explain why I feel a little bit dizzy. Everyone knows the brain needs continuous oxygen supply.

"Nah, I heard the guys in the mailroom think you are a bit shit, just gliding in here taking the President slash COO position when they have fought so long and hard to get promoted."

I try a neutralising joke to break the spell of those mesmerizing brown eyes. To my surprise, he throws his head back and laughs heartily. I really like him that way, but he is dangerous like that. I didn't mean to make him laugh though, he may think I have forgiven him, which I have not.

"Then I suppose I will have to bribe them with a cake or something to acknowledge the important job they are doing, to make sure they don't lose my letters on purpose. Speaking of which, as Georgie is gone, when you drop Anna's mail for the day, would you bring mine too?"

I nod. Even if I don't want to be friendly with him, which for some reason is hard not to be, this is my job and he is my superior making a perfectly legitimate request. He goes back into his office only to return moments later with a pile of mail. I glance down on it, first just a quick automatic glance, but my eyes are drawn back to the letter on top of the pile again. I look at the address written on it. The address itself isn't important, but I scrutinize the beautiful handwriting. The sweeping style is familiar. It bears a striking resemblance to the two notes I still (stupidly) keep in a drawer at home. The ones I thought were written by two persons in different but similar handwriting styles and attributed the common features to the way they teach kids to write in the Spanish schools.

"You have really beautiful handwriting."

"Thank you", he says with a smile, which fades when he notices the absolute lack of smile on my face and the coldness in my voice.

"I guess that is very handy when you want to write little notes to people, or love letters, that type of thing", I say flatly. Now he connects the dots and for the second time in two days I have the pleasure of seeing him blushing.

"Molly, I…"

Abruptly I get up from my seat, give him a hard stare, collect his pile of mail as well as Anna's from my desk. He skilfully manipulated me into almost liking him a bit, by being nice and laughing. Now I was reminded to know better.

"I'd better get this to the mail room before they close for the day and I really shouldn't take up your important time, what with you being my boss and me a plain employee."

It is the first time he sees me standing up today and there is a change in his face which is hard to interpret. There is a possibility he finally registers my white very tight bodycon and I'm hoping I look more sexy than chaste, just to once again remind him what he let pass him by, though when he looks at me with dark, impenetrable eyes I feel more naked than anything.

"Right. Thank you." Is all he says with a voice devoid of any emotion.

I can feel his eyes on me when I walk away, which makes me nervous I will trip on my heels and fall tits over arse. I don't, but I exhale a sigh of relief when I turn the corner and am out of his sight. I don't go directly to the mail room though. I sneak into the copy room and copy the address from his letter and later I compare it with the two notes I have at home. There is no doubt about it, he wrote them himself. I still can't fully understand why he went to such lengths to keep up the pretence. People have holiday flings with no strings attached the whole time, not me but others, and it really doesn't make sense to pretend you don't speak the same language just to get someone into bed. Especially not when I likely would have ended up in his bed at least as fast if he had talked to me. I just don't get it and it makes me so frustrated. If I only understood, then I could let go of this jerk and focus completely on my loving and affectionate relationship with Alex.

To compensate Alex for not seeing him yesterday evening, and also because I have a bad conscience about my dream and spending so much time thinking about Charles today, not to mention I really want to be with Alex, I call him on the way home to make plans together.

"Hi sunshine." I can hear how he beams with delight at the other end of the line, just what I need.

"Are you free tonight? I would love to do something together."

"I'd love that too. I made plans to play pool with an old friend from school, but you can join."

"Are you sure I won't interrupt some male bonding time? I mean if you haven't seen each other for a while and want to be alone."

"No, in fact it will be perfect. He is always bragging about girls, it will be a nice change that I'm the one bringing a gorgeous one."

I'm thinking that Alex is joking because for sure he wouldn't bring me along for such a childish reason, but I realise later that evening that unfortunately he was serious. We meet his friend Johnny in a pub and I'm immediately a bit put off by the nature of the banter between them. It reminds me of some bad American high school movie where fraternity brothers have stupid conversations about drinking and chicks. When Alex introduces me, he holds tightly around my waist, but for some reason I feel more like he is possessively holding on to an accessory than holding his girlfriend.

"Nice Alex-boy, you finally got yourself a girl", Johnny grins and makes suggestive moves with his eyebrows that makes it seem like he means to say congratulations that Alex finally got laid. He is not very tall but has tried to compensate that by body building, so he has the kind of bulgy biceps which don't allow him to fully hold his arms straight along his body. It looks ridiculous, but I can tell that he himself thinks he is super-hot. For some reason Alex seems to admire him a lot.

"Duh, and isn't she beautiful?"

Alex let his hand move down to touch my bum. I wouldn't mind when we are alone but like this it feels a bit strange. They haven't even started drinking yet and there is far too much testosterone flying in the air. As they down beers with impressive speed, I mostly listen to their conversation which becomes increasingly dumb. Reminiscing old days; exams they didn't pass but didn't care about, girls that they came across and Johnny bedded. It sounds like Johnny always has been a womanizer and Alex followed in his tracks but not very successfully - until now, as he clearly enjoys pointing out repeatedly. They are also talking about how brilliant they are in their careers now, but it mostly sounds like bragging to me. I know that Alex has a pretty modest job in a bank, which I don't mind at all, but now it sounds like he is running the place. Johnny seems to manage a firm which sells luxury cars, but I can't help wondering if he in fact is a regular salesman of Volvos. I sip my glass of wine and watch them play, because I'm clearly not expected to take part in the pool game.

"Girls can't play, everyone knows that", Johnny smirks, but really the two of them are not very skilled either. Missing the balls more than they hit them. I really don't like this Johnny, detest him is more like it. Somehow, he makes Alex too seem less attractive and I long to get home and be alone with him again, get my normal, sweet Alex back and forget this evening ever happened. Finally, I get tired of just watching and listening to their unintelligent conversation.

"Can I just have try? Maybe you can teach me?" I ask in my most feminine voice and bat my eyelashes.

"You could always have a try, baby." Alex waves me over and apparently, he has seen one of those movies where boy teaches girl how to play pool and there is a cute romantic or maybe sexy scene with him behind her, showing her how to do. Well, well, I play along and let him demonstrate.

I try to shut out Johnny's dirty jokes about Alex being behind me with a long stick in his hand, when he shows me how to hold the cue and make a move.

"I think I got the hang of it now. Can I have a try on my own?"

"Sure."

Alex backs away, I aim at the ball, breathe, hit with expert precision and set it in motion, so it ricochets over the pool table and four balls end up in the corner holes. Easily the best move seen on this table this evening.

"That was easy enough. Thanks for teaching me." I say with a sweet smile. "I'm quite exhausted now though, can we call it a night Alex?"

The guys look at me dumfounded and deflated. Of course, they can't know I have played pool since I was a kid and accompanied dad and his mates playing pool when mum didn't know.

"Erm, yes. Maybe it is time."

He seems a bit embarrassed over my unexpected pool talents which amuses me. Then he comes to think of something that cheers him up.

"I can give you that massage you missed out on yesterday", he adds and winks suggestively at Johnny.

I'm feeling far from in the mood for a sensual massage right now, but I'm relieved when we leave Johnny behind and hope it will take long before we meet him again. I don't feel very affectionate or tactile after this evening and I'm almost equally relieved when Alex falls asleep the moment he lies down on the bed and starts snoring in the way people tend to do when they are drunk. I lie down too but at the other end of the bed, not snuggled up close to him. For the first time I'm wondering if he really is as dreamy as I thought.

I wake up in the middle of the night and Alex is certainly compensating for the way he behaved tonight. He is doing the most amazing things to me with his tongue. I grasp his hair panting and moaning for more, but his hair feels different from what it usually does. Thicker and wavy. I look down and see that the mop of hair isn't blonde like Alex's, but dark and now he shifts to look up at me with a devilishly sexy grin. Charles James, with camouflage-painted face and dressed in combats. Before I can object, he dips his head to continue the swivelling he masters to perfection. Holy shit! I wake up, still trembling and gasping for air, that much is real even if the rest wasn't. Fortunately, an oblivious Alex is still snoring like a drunkard beside me.

I used to be in control, on top of everything, an efficient office machine without a romantic streak or a silly fantasy in sight. Now, I'm clearly not. What is the matter with me?


	10. The offending copy room

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews. Glad you continue to enjoy the story now that it has moved from the beach to the office. I'm back in my office and this story cheers me up when I'm sad about that the annual leave is over for this time. Sadly, no CJ in my office but that is probably for the better for the work morale and my marriage.**

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**Chapter 10: The offending copy room**

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Monday again and I have survived two weeks with Charles in this office. Well, three if you count the one I stayed home. It has been tough to say the least. I try to avoid him, but it isn't easy. Inevitably we bump into each other a few times every day, even if I aim to minimise the interactions.

When he arrives in the morning I always tap away on my desktop, pretending to be very busy planning and optimising Anna's day and only glance at him quickly and mumble 'hi' in response to his polite good morning. When he has disappeared into his office I can't help myself and involuntarily sniff the pleasant scent of exclusive, masculine aftershave lingering in his wake. It smells like he came fresh out of the shower less than 30 minutes ago and triggers visions of him naked with water streaming down his body or dressed in only a towel wrapped around his slender hips, water glistening on his bare chest while he is shaving that chiselled jaw. It is very unsettling. It should be illegal to have such amazing aftershave on at work. There are people who are sensitive to strong smells. Maybe I should draft a policy and propose to Anna, but it would also mean I can't wear my fav perfume anymore and I'm a bit addicted to that so maybe not such a good idea after all.

I have been reluctant to spend nights with Alex lately. Not because I don't want to sleep together, because I do, but nearly every night I wake up from an unwelcome dream about Charles and I would be so embarrassed if Alex found out. I didn't dream about "Carlos" like this even right after I returned home from Spain but having Charles here near me at work somehow triggers the forbidden dreams despite that I despise him. I don't always remember what I dreamt, but I wake up flushed and I fear that I'm saying (or worse, moaning) his name out loud in my sleep. I don't want Alex to hear that and start asking questions. He hasn't questioned we don't stay the night at the moment and I have the feeling he won't as long as we still have sex. We do, though I'm less in the mood so it is less frequent than before. I have a feeling the dreams are the cause for that too and totally blame Charles James. Alex has been very sweet ever since the evening with Johnny and deserves a devoted girlfriend.

With Charles inside his room and his amazing morning smell gone, I can focus on the tasks at hand and for a while I recognise myself; the super-efficient, super-focused PA, but then he comes out from his office to talk to Georgie or head for a meeting and my peace is disturbed again. To be fair, I think he does his best to avoid me too, but the office space isn't endless, and my desk is located outside his room, so it is pretty difficult.

Sometimes Anna insist we have lunch together. She and I have always enjoyed regular lunches together and now she often asks Charles and Georgie if they wish to join. I normally have a healthy appetite, but seem to lose it when he is there and I just push my food around on the plate and participate in the conversation half-heartedly, tense and occupied balancing not being friendly to him with not making Anna suspicious. Georgie is the one lightening up my mood with her silly but funny comments and hoarse laughter. There is nothing wrong with _her _appetite; she eats, chats and pat Charles on the arm like he was a dear friend, or they were an old couple. I envy her easiness around him, but I don't get the feeling she is flirting with him. I can't even take it seriously when we sit by our desks and she declares;

"This boss of mine, he really is drop dead gorgeous. If he wasn't my boss and I was so professional, I would take him to bed pronto. Imagine him with a bit of whipped cream on top."

I burst into fits of laughter, both over Georgie's forwardness and imagining him with whipped cream on selected body parts. Especially when he walks by and curiously asks;

"What's funny?"

"Nothing Charlie. Just sharing my best recipe of cream layer cake", Georgie says.

"Let me guess, with strawberries?"

"Now that you mention it, I think it would go excellent with the rest."

I almost pee my pants from laughing so hard and have to flee for the toilets but hear them still talking as I run.

"I thought we had established you would call me Charles?"

"I'm sorry, it just slips my mind Charlie."

I really like Georgie, even if she adds to my work load because I have to help her a lot. If I were to keep to my initial plan I shouldn't lift a finger to help her, but I can't do that. I like her, and it means I have to help her even if it results in annoying Charles less. So, she seems to flawlessly keep track of his appointments, get him the right coffee, remember to pick up his suits from dry cleaning, file his documents correctly, but it is with quite a bit of assistance from me that no one knows of. My clever plan has failed but at least I have a new colleague I really enjoy working alongside with despite her flaws. As she said herself, EQ is her strong suit.

Then there are meetings I can't escape where both Charles and I are expected to attend. Like the weekly leadership team meeting where I take the minutes and he of course is one of the leaders. There is such a meeting this morning and I'm dreading it. Last week Anna complained I had missed to write down a few important things that were discussed. It seems my mind had drifted elsewhere. It wasn't fair really. There was something wrong with the ventilation system that day, so it was _really_ hot in the office and Anna told the men it was okay to ditch their jackets if they wanted to, not keeping to the usual formal dress code in the heat. This was welcomed by everyone and that was when I lost focus a bit, as Charles took off his jacket, loosened his tie and began rolling up his shirt sleeves so his forearms showed. His tan is fading week by week but was so deep to begin with that he still has this glowing bronzed skin tone, especially in contrast to the white shirt. His arms look so strong and I know for a fact they are, as he was able to carry me for quite some time if I only wrapped my legs around his waist and he made me feel light as a feather. On his left wrist he has a really nice watch, someone told me it is a Rolex submariner which apparently is a classic. It is not too big or vulgar one like some successful men tend to go for to show their status, but very a stylish, expensive-looking yet discrete accessory, somehow making those large hands looking even manlier. My gaze continued to slide along his hands, long strong fingers with neat, short nails and I felt a disturbing, buzzing feeling between my thighs when I reminisced what those fingers had done there. That was when I snapped out of it, reluctantly tore away from his hands and shifted my gaze upward, unfortunately looking straight into his face, meeting his eyes. Even if his mouth didn't smile, I got the feeling his eyes did and that he was amused because he guessed what I was thinking. Insufferable man! I refocused on typing the minutes but had obviously missed some important information during my brief attention lapse. Anna was surprised when she discovered it reviewing the minutes, because it has never happened before. I blamed the heat and that was not entirely untrue. I don't intend for it to happen again.

Today, the ventilation is fully functional and room temperature normal, so I don't have to worry about any bare forearms distracting me. I'm sure I have captured every little detail in the minutes and now we only have the AOB (any other business) topic to go.

"Charles, I think you had something you wanted to say?" Anna says.

"Yes." I feel I have to look at him when he is the one speaking, anything else would be strange. He smiles warmly at everyone in the room. He obviously has to include me, and it is difficult not to reciprocate because he has such a beautiful smile, but I manage to keep my lips in a straight tight line.

"I'd like to thank you all for being so welcoming during my first weeks here at Ethica Trading. You're really making me feel like one of the team and that means a lot to me. I would like to show my appreciation by inviting you all to drinks at my place next Friday. It would be nice to meet you all outside of work and you are welcome to bring your partners if you like."

Drinks. His place. He is inviting the leadership team. I'm processing this information. Obviously, the invitation does not extend to me. I'm not part of the LT and I have not done anything to make him feel welcome, so for sure the invitation does not include me. Even if I'm curious about how his real home looks, not his fake home in Frigiliana, I'm relieved when I reach that conclusion. His home is his territory and I would be on thin ice.

"That was a nice thing of Charles to do, invite everyone, don't you think?" Anna says later in her office.

"Yes, very nice. Obviously, I'm not going."

"Why not?" She looks at me searchingly. "Molly, do you have something against Charles?"

That is two different questions and I chose to answer the easy one.

"He invited the leadership team, the department heads and you. I'm just there taking the minutes, so I don't expect the invitation to include me."

"Nonsense, of course it includes you. Charles isn't snobbish like that and I happen to know he invited Georgie too plus a few others he is working tight with. It won't be only the LT, so you don't have to feel you're out of place."

"It just feels strange, drinks in the boss' home."

"You didn't think it was strange on the many occasions we had drinks together in my home."

"That's different."

"How come?"

"Because you're both my friend and my boss."

Anna frowns.

"Molly, I'm asking again; do you have anything against Charles?"

"No… I don't know… I'm just not 100% comfortable around him."

She keeps her sharp eyes fixed on me and suddenly looks like she had an epiphany, I don't know about what, then turns to flip some papers on her desk but I see a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Fine, I know it sometimes takes time to adjust to getting new colleagues, especially a new boss, but you just have to get to know him better and this is a good opportunity if any. He is really nice when you spend time with him, you know. He won't go away, so you'd better get used to him. Not coming when he so generously invited us may seem unkind. Bring Alex and have some fun. It would be a great opportunity for me to finally meet your boyfriend too."

I swallow. I still hope he _will_ go away, but in the meantime, I have to play along. Anna expects me to be there next Friday, so I have no choice but to go. But bringing Alex? When I return to my desk I try to decide which is worse; bring Alex and spend an evening with my boyfriend and my secret holiday shag/boss in the same room, or not bring Alex and risk Charles thinks my boyfriend is made up. I end up deciding the key word here is _secret_. Alex won't know, no one else will know. Only me and Charles know anything ever happened between us and we are equally eager to pretend like it didn't. Bringing Alex is better than not, so I will.

The nearly two weeks before the cocktail mingle pass almost without incidents, but not quite. I set it in motion myself in the most foolish way. One evening when Jackie is away, curiosity gets the better of me and I decide to make a more in-depth google search of Charles. First I revisit the military photos and when I scrutinize them I notice that he looks happy, relaxed and free despite his role as commander and the uniform. I blush when I see him camouflage painted as the last time I saw that, he was in my bed seducing me. Then there is an article about him, he was interviewed by Forbes when he just had finished his MBA and started working for our competitor. He was described as a young shooting star, but just laughed at that epithet when the interviewer mentioned it. He comes across as humble but ambitious and determined, refusing to cave in even if he can't pursue a career he obviously loved. He is positive and has high hopes for his future. If I had not known him as a lying bastard, I would have liked him reading this and maybe drowned in those brown eyes looking into the camera where he sits perched on his desk.

Next, I come across those party pictures that I like less. He occurs on gossip blogs, online tabloids and Instagram, though I notice he only is tagged on others' accounts. His own account is not public, and I have no intention to ask if I'm allowed to follow. I even fear I might happen to click the follow button by mistake because then he would know I have been snooping. He is gorgeous in so many of these photos; dressed in smart suits or a more casual preppy style. Always surrounded by beautiful, trendy, rich it-people who look like they want to be near him, like he is a king holding court. The thing is, if I look closely, he doesn't look like he is comfortable in the role. Not like in the army photos or the one with him on his desk where he seems completely at ease. Often he looks a bit absent and like he would like to move away from the centre but is trapped. Or maybe I'm wrong and he is just drunk or even stoned. Don't those jet setters use a lot of cocaine? Either way, there is this one photo where a paparazzi has caught him leaving from some club. He looks back over his shoulder and looks right at me and... I don't know. That photo gets to me. His eyes looking straight into the camera, surprised, unguarded, asking to be left alone, they get to me just like Carlos' eyes did. I decide it is time to stop this stupid stalking. I won't get closer to him like this and I don't even want to. It is the last thing I want. I'm just getting to know my enemy as Jackie has instructed me. I notice one last thing before I exit the page; all photos are more than a year old. Seems like Charles James hasn't attended any parties lately. Maybe people discovered he was a scumbag and stopped inviting him.

When I go to bed his eyes as they were in that photo follow me. It is like I feel them on me when I change to my pyjamas and tuck myself in. They come to me in my dreams and this night the dream is different from before and far too realistic. For the first time we find ourselves in the office.

_Charles stands in front of my desk, looking at me with those dark eyes. _

_"Molly. Copy room. Now", he says and jerks his head for me to follow him. _

_Once upon a time I refused when Steve in the Legal department suggested I should join him there during the office Christmas do, but now I silently follow Charles. He closes the door behind us and his intense eyes are on me. He takes one step closer. I feel compelled to also take one step closer. He takes the last step closing the gap between us and presses his lips to mine, coax my lips open with his tongue, soft but insistent. His hands are on me, showing me exactly what he wants. This is not harassment, no assault because in my dream I want him with everything that is me. I kiss him back with the same feverish intensity, wrap arms and legs around him, feel like I'm dissolving, merging with him just like I did in Spain. I can't hold back, have to give all of me to him. He carefully puts me down on top of the copy machine and his exploring hands hoists up my skirt eagerly yet gently._

_"Say it. Say it, so I know this is right. So I know I'm not doing something wrong", he murmurs to my neck._

_I know want he needs to hear._

_"I want you. I want you. I need you. Don't stop. Don't ever stop."_

Then I fall off the copy machine and wake up on the floor beside my bed, tangled in the duvet. Ouch, that hurt. Fuck fuckety fuck.

Next day, I'm tired and a bit edgy. I can't even glance at Charles when he arrives and avoid him even more than usual all morning. In the afternoon, I'm focused on booking a flight ticket for Anna and don't really pay attention to my surroundings.

"Molly."

I look up and there he stands with his brown eyes fixed on me. My throat feels dry, my palms sweaty.

"Could you help me in the copy room?"

Seriously? Is this a re-enactment of my dream? I can't be part of that.

"What is it with men and that bloody copy room?! No, I won't join you there! Not you or any other man in this office. I don't share the male fetish for copy machines!" I snap.

He stares at me like I'm mad.

"I don't know what previous experience you have of the copy room and I'm not sure I want to know, but I have an emergency and Georgie isn't here."

"Where is she?"

"She had an appointment for a manicure."

Of course she did. Suddenly he looks so lost I don't know if I want to laugh or feel sorry for him. I also feel foolish for my outburst.

"For fuck's sake. I know you hate me, but I need your help, strictly work related", he hisses in low voice so no one else hears.

I give him a curt nod and get to my feet. We hurry to the copy room to find the machine spitting out copy after copy of a document.

"I only wanted 20 copies but somehow entered 2000 and the original is 31 pages, so it will be a lot", he bashfully explains.

Confidently I walk over to the machine and press the cancel button, but for some reason it doesn't help.

"I have already tried that, I'm not stupid."

"Okay, if you say so.", I smirk but I'm also starting to get a little stressed as the machine relentlessly spits out new copies and papers are starting to pile up on the floor as the catch tray is more than full. This is a technically very advanced copy machine with trays for thousands of papers, so it won't stop because it runs out of paper.

"We may need an advanced technical solution, maybe call for support. I thought you military guys always had a plan B?"

"I did. It was to fetch you. If we have to wait for support the entire room will be filled with papers."

"Oh." I have to figure something out, I can't fail in front of him. Then I know, of course.

I walk over to the machine, reach behind it and unplug it. I turn to Charles, dangling the cord triumphantly.

"Is that it? Is that the advanced technical solution?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, which looks a bit messier than usual like it has curled up because of the situation and grins with relief.

"Yes, cutting the power will reset it. Maybe there are other options but that was _my_ plan B."

"I feared what people might say about the new COO if they knew I can't even handle the copy machine."

"They still will if I tell them", I tease.

"Will you?"

"No." I can't help smiling and he smiles back.

His dark eyes are on me, same as in the dream, same as in the bed in Spain and I feel my skin heat. I can't stay in this room. My dream was too real, it feels like a memory and my heart is thumping hard inside my chest.

"Anyway, I need to get back. I was making a flight reservation for Anna."

"Double away then, but Molly..."

I freeze.

"Thanks."

His eyes are asking if we can be friends, but we can't.

"I have to come when the boss calls, don't I?"

I know I don't sound nice, but that is better than sounding scared of what he makes me feel. I hurry back to my desk and don't look up when he walks past me again. I wonder if I ever will be relaxed around the copy machine again, or around him.


	11. Drinks with a catch

**Chapter 11: Drinks with a catch**

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After nearly two weeks of angst, the day I have dreaded is here. Tonight is the night when we are invited to Charles home for an informal get-together. It seems everyone is looking forward to it except me and Georgie. Me due to the circumstances, she because she isn't going. Unfortunately, she already had plans she couldn't change, and I feel I lost an ally who would have helped me survive the evening. Funny thing about Georgie is that even if she is chatty, she does not really share much about her private life and I'm not so forward to ask if she has a boyfriend, or a girlfriend for that matter. I know she moved to London only a few months ago, but not if she lives with someone. On the other hand I'm not one for spilling my private life to my colleagues either, with the exception of Anna, so I'm fine with it. Anyway I wish she could come this evening.

Even Alex is looking forward to it. When I asked if he wanted to join, part of me still kind of hoped he would not, but he happily accepted the invitation and said he was looking forward to a party, though I said it was more like an after work. In the end I'm glad he is coming. I may need to hold on to his hand all through the evening because I have been even jumpier around Charles since the two copy room incidents, the real one and the dreamt.

As if things aren't bad enough as they are, I start feeling unwell around lunch time. A headache sneaks up on me and I feel quite exhausted. I mention it to Anna hoping for pity.

"I have a headache. Perhaps I shouldn't come this evening."

"Oh no, you won't get away that easily. Just take an Advil and it will go away. I know you're not keen on coming but you will. I'm sure that after a drink or two you will feel swell and if not, you have done your duty and can go home."

I realise there is no point insisting that I really don't feel well. She won't believe me because of our previous conversation. During the afternoon the intensity of the headache increases slowly but surely and now the rest of my body aches too. I clench my teeth and soldier on, finish my tasks, go home to freshen up and wait for Alex to pick me up. Even in my exhausted state I want to look my best this evening, maybe that will make me feel better. I put on a little more makeup than at work, even add some lipstick and pick a dress which is less strict than my workwear, but tidier than what I would wear to a club (after Jackie's recent makeover of my wardrobe). A burgundy pencil dress with puffed 3/4 sleeves and tie belted waist. I hope it is suitable for the occasion. At least I'm quite pleased with the girl that meets me in the mirror, dress and heels on and my long hair in loose waves.

Charles has shared his address and Alex arrives at my place in time for us to go there together, but then says something which throws me into a state of distress.

"Shouldn't we bring something?"

"What do you mean?"  
"Like a gift to the host, as a thanks for inviting us."

He really is thoughtful and of course, he is right. I have completely forgotten my manners because I have been so stressed out about this evening, but we must bring something. Everyone else will for sure. If I had been on top of everything I probably would have arranged that we all collected some money for a joint gift to the host, but I was distracted. Now, I get a brain freeze and have absolutely no clue what to bring. I don't want to be nice to him, don't want to bring a personal, considerate and thoughtful gift. Just _something_.

"Shit! Didn't think of that. What should we bring?"

"A bottle of wine? Flowers?"

I look at the clock.

"We have to stop by the supermarket around the corner and see what we find, we don't have time for anything else."

We rush down to the supermarket and I quickly grab a bottle of red wine which seems decent enough. I wouldn't mind giving him some really cheap, sour wine but it would be embarrassing if any of the others checked it out, plus Alex can't find out I bear grudges towards our host. We look for some flowers too, but the flower section of the supermarket is a sad story with bouquets that look like they could be made of plastic. Oh wait, they _are _made of plastic_._ There are a few plants in pots too which might be a better option, especially to a man. My eyes fall on the perfect one.

"Let's take this."

Alex looks surprised but don't object.

Charles also look surprised when I hand it to him as he opens his front door.

"Thank you", he says with barely contained laughter. "Wine _and_ a cactus, you really shouldn't have."

"I thought the cactus suited you somehow", I smile sweetly.

"I bet you did." He still looks amused. I didn't mean to amuse him. I wanted to offend him in a subtle way.

He is annoyingly good-looking, as usual. Like me, less formal that at the office, in a slim navy shirt and dark grey trousers, cut so they flatter his tall, lithe frame. He has skipped tie and two shirt buttons are unbuttoned. Enough to see the smooth skin at the dip below his Adam's apple and I get the almost irresistible urge to place my lips there. I _know_ what it feels like to kiss him there.

"Cactuses always makes me think of a phallus with spines", Alex chimes in from behind me. I had almost forgotten he stood there. Even if the resemblance to a phallus with spines makes the cactus an even more appropriate gift for Charles, I feel a bit embarrassed over the comment. After all, it is the first thing my boyfriend utters to one of my bosses.

"Err, Charles, this is my boyfriend Alex. Alex, this is Charles, our host and also the President and COO of Ethica Trading.

Charles doesn't look amused anymore. He politely extends his hand to greet Alex, but his eyes are like two pieces of onyx and his jaw is tight. Mohahaha, he doesn't like that I brought my boyfriend, but he was the one who said it was okay to bring ones partner, so I have done nothing wrong. Maybe he didn't believe I really had an existing boyfriend but that was _his_ mistake. The embarrassment is forgotten and I'm so glad I brought Alex. He looks handsome too tonight, though almost Charles' opposite; blonde and blue eyed, under the coat wearing a well-fitting white shirt and dark jeans. The top of his head only reaches to Charles nose. He puts his arm around my shoulders and pull me to his side. I like him more than ever in this moment.

"Nice to meet you", Charles says but his voice is cold. Alex seems oblivious to that and eagerly shakes his hand as we step inside.

"This is some place you have! Awesome!" he exclaims.

I wish he didn't seem so overly impressed, but it really is. I have pictured Charles living in a big bachelor pad with chrome, black leather and a black and white colour scheme. Something cold and clean to match his awful personality. In reality, he lives in a townhouse in Notting Hill. One which is situated in a row of similar townhouses, all in different pastel colours which makes me think of French macarons. Charles' house is light yellow with white details and a few steps leading up to the front door. It is so cute I want to eat it. Inside, the palette is more sombre and masculine, yet warm. There is no chrome to be seen, instead a harmonious mix of antiquities and modern design furniture. Large, thick carpets, cushions and curtains add to the cosy impression. On the walls there is art which probably reflects his personal taste (which is impeccable I must say) and shelves with books and personal trinkets. This house is filled with all those things that were missing in the house in Frigiliana. This is a home, this is no doubt _his_ home. I hate to admit it to myself, but I adore it. I wish it was mine. It isn't fair that it belongs to someone like him.

Posing as a gentleman host, Charles offers to take our coats. Even helps me to take mine off, his hands on my shoulders before I can object, and I quickly wriggle my trench off and step away. I feel obliged to thank him for the unwelcome assistance and turn around. His gaze slides down my body, he rakes his bottom lip with his perfect white teeth and turn around to hang my coat without complimenting my outfit. Maybe the dress wasn't appropriate for the occasion after all, maybe he expected the ladies to be dressed in some other way but then he should have been more specific about dress code.

Alex comforts me slightly when he hisses that I look really hot in this burgundy colour. Even if Charles back is turned towards the closet, I notice that he seems to stiffen. Maybe he doesn't like that someone else appreciates me even if he doesn't. I take Alex's hand and squeeze it hard, grateful that I have him. Charles glances at our clasped hands when he turns around, then without another word shows us into the room where quite a few of the others already are gathered.

"What can I get you to drink?"

He is back in the polite host mode.

"Some white wine, please."

"A beer would be nice, mate."

Charles disappears, only to swiftly return with the drinks.

"If you want a re-fill or something else to drink, just go to the makeshift bar over there and in that corner over there is some light food to nibble on. You may wish to skip the serrano ham, Molly. Turns out it is quite… _meaty_."

Did he just wink at me?

"Anyway, just help yourselves to what you like, and I hope you have a good time.

He smiles and leaves to open the door for some other arriving guests. He is _really_ good at pretending to be awfully nice and I can't help regretting the cactus just a little.

Alex immediately take a few large gulps of his beer.

"A bar, huh? Seems he even hired a bartender to mix drinks, and it looks like some fancy kind of tapas over there. This guy clearly knows how to do things in style."

"I suppose he does", I have to admit. I shouldn't be surprised considering the jet set friends I have seen on Instagram.

"He is really good-looking too."

Is there a streak of jealousy in Alex's voice? I'm not sure I can cope with jealousy this evening.

"Charles? I haven't noticed."

"Seriously? How could you not? He is like some fucking Adonis."

"Hush! He is my _boss_. I don't think about him like that. He is more like a... piece of furniture. You know like, in the office there are desks and chairs and bosses. They are there, but you don't spend much time thinking about them unless there is something wrong with them."

"So, he is a good boss then?"

"He is so new, so I haven't really had a chance to make up my mind yet and anyway Anna is the boss I answer to first and foremost, not him."

"You won't go on any business trips, you and him alone then?"

"_Absolutely not_, I can promise you that. Anyway, if we stop talking about Charles I can introduce you to Anna and some others.

I haven't spent much time with Alex in the company of others, with the exception of Jackie (that works well) and Johnny (less so), so I'm excited to introduce him to Anna. I know she has been looking forward to meeting him, the first boyfriend I ever let her meet. The first boyfriend I have _at all_ since she got to know me, to be specific. I pull Alex with me to the corner where Anna and her husband, Malcolm, stands.

"Molly! And this must be your young man."

When she says like that she sounds ancient, but she isn't, she is only ten years older than me. I prepare myself to introduce Alex, but while I'm still inhaling before I speak, he enthusiastically introduces himself and then he doesn't stop talking. He talks and talks, mostly about himself and his opinions about things. It is almost a monologue where the three of us are lucky if we manage to chip in a word or two. I'm so baffled I don't really know what to say.

Now he is on about being the manager of the bank where he works. Seriously, is he pulling that crap again? I know he is a regular clerk and thought it was only under the influence of Johnny he tried to make it sound differently due to some inferiority complex towards his old friend. It slowly dawns on me that he may have the need to assert himself in _any_ company, except when we are alone.

"So I'm doing some pretty important work. Key person in the bank you can say. Not like my little Molly."

I'm about to ask him what he hell means but Anna beats me to it.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Molly, she's just a PA. Taking notes and fetching coffee is hardly a job that requires any special qualifications. I mean, clearly not; you didn't even go to uni."

I'm speechless. Did he really just say that?

"I can assure you that Molly does a lot more than fetching coffee. My job as CEO would be very difficult without her assistance, so I truly consider her a key person to the company", Anna says sharply. "Isn't that what I always tell you Malcolm, that I wouldn't last long without Molly?"

"You do, dear", Malcolm says jovially, and I can see that he too flinched at what Alex said. I'm embarrassed that they notice he is being a bit weird.

"Sorry if I offended someone. Molly is an awesome girlfriend. I just didn't get the impression that her job is that important."

He gives me a peck on the cheek, but I don't feel very cuddly.

"Believe me, it _is_ important", Anna says.

"If you say so. Now I'm going to get another one of these." Alex holds up his empty beer bottle. "Do you want anything sweetheart?"

"Another glass of wine, please."

I would like to say 'That you stop acting like a jerk in front of my colleagues', but the last thing I want is causing a scene in front of Charles, so I hold my tongue.

"What was that about?" Anna asks when he is gone.

"I don't know. He isn't usually like that at all. Maybe he is just a bit insecure here where he doesn't know anyone."

"Maybe so." I can see that she doubts it but lets it go for my sake.

An hour goes by, or maybe only five minutes passed. This evening seems endless to me because it is a posh version of hell. I want to escape Charles, I want to seek in comfort in Alex, but he is busy mingling, drinking and talking bullshit. Not that it isn't a nicely arranged mingle. Charles really made an effort; ordered catering, trays with the most delicious tapas, and there is the little bar where a bartender mixes the cocktail of your liking or serve wine, fizz and beer. My colleagues are all top people, and everyone is in high spirits, so this ought to be a great evening but for me it isn't.

I feel tense for having Alex in the same room as Charles, I'm embarrassed when Alex keeps bragging about stuff I know isn't true, my headache is exhausting and in addition to all that I find myself wishing I was in Charles' house under different circumstances. What if this had been the house he took me too for our night together? What if he had been truthful instead of screwing me over? No point to cry over spilt milk, that is simply not how it was or ever will be.

I let my gaze wander around the room and get stuck on Charles. He is talking to the wife of one of the department heads and looks like he is listening very attentively to what she says. I remember when he seemed to listen to everything I said in Spain, even if he didn't understand. Now I know he did understand. Does that mean that he paid attention to what I said and _remembers_ it? I hope he has forgotten it all, but apparently he remembered my scepticism to serrano. His eyes meet mine across the room and my breath hitches. Why is Alex not by my side when I need him?

After the shower I had earlier I felt refreshed and forgot about the headache for a while, but it has returned with increased intensity. My body aches too and it is very hot in the room. I'm not sure the wine helps but I need it to get through this evening. I'm unsure if this is my second glass or my third.

Alex is now busy chatting and laughing with my colleague Jason and his wife, though he does most of the talking and laughing and they look a bit like they want to move on. A while ago, I tried to convince him it might be a good idea to leave soon but he dismissed the idea, saying it was great here.

I feel I need some space, leave the room and walk down the corridor. I walk through an open double door and find myself in a library. At least there are comfortable armchairs facing a fireplace and book shelves from floor to ceiling along three of the walls. The fourth is covered by framed photographs and I stop in front of it. There are photos from his Army days, similar to the ones I have already seen, but where he even more looks like he is friends with many of the soldiers despite that he as Captain outranks them. Then there are pictures of what seems to be family, friends and favourite dogs. There are photos from hikes and travels around the world, but no photos of parties and beautiful girls. I walk along the shelves, touching the books wondering if he likes to read or if this is all just for show. Oddly there is a bottle of olive oil on one of the shelves. I pick it up and have a look at it. Spanish of course, but why doesn't he keep it in the kitchen?

"What are you doing in here?"

I'm startled but his voice is not unfriendly, and he doesn't look annoyed, just curious.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"You don't. I just meant why you are by yourself?"

Because it was all too much, but I can't tell him that.

"I just felt like I needed a moment alone and lost myself in this big house of yours."

"Do you like it?"

He actually looks like he is eager to know, wants my approval. As if he would need that.

"What's not to like? It is a wonderful house. I always thought it is possible to tell a person's personality by seeing their house."

"And?"

"I was obviously wrong. There is no correlation between your house and your personality."

I didn't mean for it to come out sounding that nasty but being alone with him in here makes me edgy. He looks hurt and I wish I could take it back.

"Your boyfriend seems nice. Social", he says with ill-concealed sarcasm.

"He _is _very nice and thoughtful and loving. He hasn't lied to me once."

"That you know of."

"What?"  
"If he is a good liar you wouldn't know."

"Not everyone is like you Charles. It isn't fair of you to try to make me doubt my boyfriend because you weren't truthful."

"I never meant…"

"Sorry, I should go join Alex." I interrupt him and intend to leave. I still don't want to listen to his pathetic explanations and I certainly don't need to hear him slag Alex off.

I had forgotten I'm holding the bottle of olive oil, but now I put it down on the shelf again.

"Why don't you keep your olive oil in the kitchen?"

"Oh, that. I bought it as a gift for someone."

He clears his throat and when I look up on him, he stares at me intently. There is something at the depth of his eyes which is unsettling, like a silent plea. It makes me want to run, it makes me want to step closer to him, it makes me want to lash out at him for even existing and make me feel like this, it makes me want to take back the unkind words I have said.

"I'm sorry about the cactus."

"Why?" The corner of his mouth is twitching upwards.

"It was a terrible gift, a bad last-minute idea because I panicked I had not thought about bringing something. I don't think you're anything like a cactus."

"I'm glad to hear it. That was nearly a compliment."

Now he smiles for real, that lovely smile that makes me even more nervous because it stirs butterflies in my stomach.

"I _really_ should go back. I just needed to get away from the others for a while. I'm really hot."

That came out wrong.

"I mean I'm flushed..."

Even worse.

"… what I mean to say is that I don't feel well."

His expression shifts to one of concern.

"If you don't feel well you should go home. I can call for a cab."

"Alex doesn't feel like leaving yet. He thinks you have arranged a great party."

"And you don't?"

"I didn't say that. It's just a bit difficult to relax given the circumstances."

"I don't want you to feel awkward in my home."

I shrug my shoulders.

"Well, I do. I shouldn't have brought Alex, I shouldn't have come at all, but Anna insisted I should."

I feel tears prickle in my eyes and chew my lower lip because I suddenly don't trust it not to tremble. He steps closer and reaches out his hand and as if to push away a strand hair from my face, but I back away.

"Don't! Just don't."

He let his hand fall to his side and the concerned look is replaced by a more reserved one. There is a twitch in a small muscle by his jaw.

"Hey, what are you doing in here?"

Alex sways in the door opening. It seems like he has been a few rounds to the bar in my absence which is impressive because I haven't been gone for long. His eyes are glazed, and he slurs a bit when he speaks.

"I missed you, baby. If I was the jealous type I'd wonder what you're doing in here all alone with your handsome boss. Should I worry?"

He chuckles at his own joke but there is a glimpse of uncertainty in his eyes, or maybe jealousy. No one else in the room is amused either.

It is like someone is pounding with a small hammer on the inside of my temples and it is really, really hot in here. Hotter than it was that day in the office. There are also some strange spots moving around in my field of vision.

"Of course, you shouldn't", I assure him.

"Because that would be really seedy, shagging your boss. I mean we haven't slept together much lately. Maybe you're getting it somewhere else…"

"Alex! Stop! There is nothing like that going on. Charles is my boss and that is all. I have absolutely no feelings for him, he is nothing but a colleague and you are embarrassing me."

I glance at Charles. His jaw is even tighter, and he looks pissed off in a cold controlled way. I would too, if someone I had been generous enough to invite to my home accused me of such things. Alex takes a swig of his drink, he obviously moved on from beer to stronger alcohol.

"If you say so, but you may need to prove it when we get home to our bed tonight. Put on that sexy slip of yours and…"

"I think that is enough, Alex. I really don't need to hear this."

Charles voice could cut through glass and Alex looks taken aback for a moment, but then shrugs his shoulders.

"Whatever…" He turns to me, ready to pull me with him out of the room away from Charles' company but frowns as if he sees something that doesn't appeal to him. "Molly, you look pale. You need to touch up your makeup, so you don't look like a horrible ghost."

"You _do_ look pale. How are you?" Charles asks, his deep voice now soft compared to moments ago.

I feel unable to answer any of them. My eyelids are really heavy, and my legs feel like jelly. The spots are growing larger and darker by the second, now covering almost everything and my head hurts so it feels like it is going to explode. I feel myself stumble and now the dancing spots cover everything. Everything is black.

"Molly, what the fuck are you doing? You made me spill the drink all over my shirt", someone wines at a distance.

I feel strong arms catching me and then a comforting palm held to my forehead.

"Shut up and just go get Anna. Molly is burning hot."

I just love the feeling of being held by him. Then I'm out.


	12. Sleeping with the enemy

**A/N: Thank you ever so much for the kind reviews!**

**Someone asked about the timeline. CJ appeared in the office two and a half months after Molly returned home from holiday. Now another five weeks have passed, and the present plays out in November or so. **

**Agree with everyone who concluded Alex is a dick, but does Molly remember?**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Sleeping with the enemy**

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When I become conscious of my surroundings, the first sense to return is touch. I feel that my bed is more comfortable than it ever was before; the mattress, the fluffy duvet and pillow, even the sheets feel unusually luxurious and soft to my bare skin. Next sense to return is smell. I love the scent coming from the sheets. Jackie must have bought a new fabric conditioner. Must tell her to keep using that because I love it. Now, hearing returns. It is unusually quiet. Normally there is always sounds coming from the busy street outside mine and Jackie's flat, but all I can hear now is the pitter-patter of rain on the window sill and someone breathing softly, like when you are asleep. Has Jackie slept in my room tonight?

Slowly and drowsily I open my eyelids. This is not my bedroom! I look around to try to identify where I am and the sight I'm faced with makes the last traces of sleep leave my body. I'm in an unknown bed in an unknown room and in the armchair beside the bed, Charles James is asleep!

Why am I here? Why is he here? I try to remember and as I do, I take the opportunity to watch him unnoticed. He looks peaceful but tired, with dark circles below the long eyelashes as if he had been awake for too long before he fell asleep. His hair is disheveled, and he has the shadow of a stubble on his chin. He is dressed more casually than I have seen him on British soil, in a grey long-sleeved tee and low-slung, washed jeans. Still, he is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Like this, tired and asleep, he looks vulnerable and I feel a wave of tenderness and affection run through me. Why is he in that armchair and for how long has he been there? More importantly, how long have I been here and why?

I don't disturb him, just sink back into my (his?) pillow, continue to enjoy the sight of him and try to focus and remember what happened. My head seems to be filled with cotton, so it takes some time before the memories start coming back.

Charles threw a party... I brought Alex. I get an uneasy feeling when I think of that, but I don't know why. I remember that he considerately suggested we should bring a gift for Charles, but then what? I can't remember much of us together at the party. Where is Alex now by the way? I remember I wasn't feeling well, and Charles and I spoke in a library. About what? Alex came and saved me, didn't he? Everything was dark, and strong, safe arms carried me somewhere. To this bed? A soft, male voice told me everything would be alright. Someone relived me of the dress which felt far too tight... Wait! Someone undressed me? I have to check and find that I'm wearing an oversized t-shirt. Charles' t-shirt? Did _he_ undress me?! How long have I been here and where are the other guests? As Charles has grown a stubble since I saw him and there is daylight outside, one night must have passed.

So many questions and no answers before he wakes up. Yet, I chose not to wake him. I just curl up in the extremely comfy bed and continue to watch him like a stalker. Take in every line of his perfect face, relaxed and neither frowned nor smiling, the way the simple t-shirt enhances his broad shoulders and amazing torso and how a glimpse of his flat stomach is visible in the gap between the tee and the jeans. I want to touch those full, soft lips and the raspy stubble with my lips, want to hide my face by his collarbone, but why? He is a man who lied to me in the worst way and I have a wonderful boyfriend now. Yet, when I see him like this, fallen asleep watching over me, I get the idea that maybe it is time to hear him out. Listen to what he has to say about why he did what he did. I need to know.

Just as I have that realization, he yawns and open his eyes. First sleepily, but when he sees I'm awake, he becomes fully alert and smiles.

"Hey you. You're awake." He greets me softly.

"Just a minute ago, didn't want to wake you."

"You had us all worried you know."

"How long have I been sleeping?"

He glances at his watch.

"It is Monday morning, so two and a half days."

"What?"

I'm appalled. How come I have slept for so long?

"What happened? Why are we here? And, _where_ are we?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember we were in your home all of us and I remember not feeling well."

"Not strange. You fainted during the party and then we realised you were burning hot. We called for a doctor and brought you up here to rest. Turned out you had high fever, 41 degrees. He said it was the flu and if you slept and was kept hydrated it would turn at some point, but we should watch over you. We thought it best not to move you, so you have stayed in my spare bedroom."

"We?"

"Anna, the doctor and I."

"So, I'm still in your house."

"Yes."

"Alex?"

"I... He stayed around for some time but then I sent him home along with the others."

He avoids my gaze saying it. So, he wasn't hospitable enough to let my boyfriend stay and take care of me. In one way I'm relieved that I didn't have to wake up to meet both of them, but I think it was a bit petty of him not to let Alex stay with me.

"And Anna is gone?"

"She stayed a few hours but then she and Malcolm had to go home to the kids. She was the one who helped get you changed into t-shirt though, in case you wonder. I didn't..."

He interrupts himself and blushes. So do I, thinking of his hands on my body.

"It's not like you haven't seen me before", I joke in a bad attempt to try lightening up the mood, but he just seems uncomfortable about it.

"I'm your boss, I wouldn't... never… Err, anyway, how do you feel? Any better?"

"Yeah, definitely. I mean, I barely remember how I felt before except I had a raging headache."

Before I can react, he leans forward and puts his palm to my forehead, but in a very doctor-like physical examination manner. He looks pleased with what he feels.

"I think your fever is gone, but we'll check with the thermometer too."

"The headache is gone but I still feel sort of heavy."

"Well, the doctor said you had caught a pretty nasty flu. Do you have a weak immune system or something? It wasn't that long ago that you were home ill for a week."

He looks at me curiously and my cheeks heat. I know it's not down to fever. I decide for some honesty.

"Or something. I think we both know I wasn't ill that time, even if Anna thinks so."

A beat of silence. Our eyes are locked, his so intense I almost can't stand looking into them, but I can't break away either. Eventually he does and smirks.

"Right. Fair enough. Are you hungry? You haven't eaten anything since Friday evening. Would you like some breakfast?"

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. He chooses not to comment my confession, I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed. When he mentions it, I realise I'm starving.

"Yes, please. If it isn't too much trouble."

"Not at all." He smiles and no matter how hard I try to resist my heart melts like ice cream in sunshine.

"I'll be back soon."

He returns ten minutes later with toast and tea. The tea comes with milk and half a lump of sugar. I assume it is a coincidence because he couldn't possibly remember that is how I take it from the other time he made me breakfast. I start nibbling the toast, even if I'm hungry it feels like I'm only able to eat little at a time. He sits down in the armchair again. I notice again how tired he looks. He could never have been sitting in that chair since Friday evening, right?

"You said it is Monday. How come you're not at work?"

"I couldn't leave you here alone, could I? I was planning on working remote, it's no big deal."

I feel embarrassed. The President of the company stays home for my benefit and that makes me a liability. Strangely, he doesn't seem bothered at all. I find it difficult to in my mind fully merge Charles' three personas; Carlos in Spain who was the most wonderful man I have ever met; the asshole playboy who obviously played me; and the caring yet professional boss I now have in front of me. The common denominator is that all three look the same, but I'm still unable to fit the pieces of the puzzle that is him together.

I'm expecting, no to be honest hoping, that he will take the opportunity to give me his perspective of what happened between us now when I'm trapped in his bed, unable to escape. Turns out he doesn't. Later, when I try to analyse why with Jackie, I conclude that either he didn't want to take advantage of the situation when I was weak, or he has given up any thoughts of explaining and doesn't care to try anymore. I'm thinking probably the latter. Even if there never has been a better opportunity, we are alone here and no one will interrupt, I'm too proud to ask. I just can't make myself do it. I would feel like a needy little girl for wanting to know and I'm also afraid that the answer will be that he never really cared and the night that was so special to me always was just another in a line of many for him.

"I can go home today, if you just call for a cab."

"No rush, you're still weak. Anna gave me the number to your flatmate Jackie and we have been in contact. She told me last evening she is at work today and I think it is for the better if you have company when you come home. I can drive you there later when she has finished work."

"You have talked to Jackie?"

"Texted. Couldn't have her worry when you didn't come home."

It feels surreal somehow, Charles and Jackie discussing my wellbeing. And that a man who cared so little about me that he had no problem lying to my face, cares enough not to want my flatmate to worry.

"And Alex?"

His expression hardens a little.

"I have texted him too, to let him know how you're doing."

Alex really must be worried about me being taken ill in my boss' house.

"Have you been together for long?" Charles asks casually.

His question surprises me, though I guess he is just trying to make light conversation.

"Two months or so."

He looks strangely relieved, maybe he got the idea I was cheating on Alex with _him _when I was on holiday. He doesn't know my past love life bears more resemblance to a celibate nun's than a cheater's. I want to ask, how about him; does he have a girlfriend even if she wasn't at the party? Or maybe two or three flings going on simultaneously? But I don't ask, after all he is my boss.

I have finished my breakfast, something which seems to make him very pleased.

"Returning appetite is a sure sign you're getting better", he says enthusiastically when he takes the tray.

"I need to work a bit now. Do you feel like sleeping again?"

I can't remember agreeing to stay but I refrain from pointing that out.

"Not really, I feel too rested after 60 hours in bed to fall asleep right now."

"Do you maybe want to watch a movie? I've got lots on DVD."'

"That would be nice, a movie day when it rains", I smile at him.

"Then movie day it is."

He looks happy and puts the tray on a side table then comes over to me and bend over me. What is he doing? Why is he so close and smelling so amazing? He sees my confusion.

"I'm taking you downstairs to the TV room. Put your arms around my neck."

God, he sounds bossy. Bossy and hot. Ah, shit, I must still be in some feverish state for even thinking that!

"I can walk", I protest.

"Just do it Molly, you have been really sick and I'm offering to carry you. I have no ulterior motives, I just don't want you to faint on the stairs. Please do as I say."

Embarrassed I obey him, put my arms around his neck and he scoops me up. So easily I almost can't believe it. Maybe I lost weight the past few days when I didn't eat anything. Suddenly I'm very aware of that even if the t-shirt is large, I'm only wearing that and my underwear and my skin prickles when he holds me, one arm around my back, one tucked under my knees touching my bare skin . I can't look in his face when he carries me, it would be too intimate. His lips would be too close and I might be tempted to touch them with mine, or he might see in my eyes that I had the impulse even if I hold it back. What the hell am I thinking, I have Alex. My lovely boyfriend Alex. I can't keep having these thoughts about Charles just because he is nice for a moment. Even if I don't act on it, it is very close to being unfaithful. Instead of turning my face to his, I bury it to his collarbone as he carries me down the stairs. I enjoy how strong his arms feel and think it is strange how something as hard as his chest can be comfortable to lean into. He must have left me at some point these days to shower, because he smells so, so good. Not of his amazing aftershave, but clean, fresh man, which almost is even better. I wonder if there is anything not to like about him except the fact that he acted like an asshole.

Too soon, he gently puts me down on a really comfortable sofa and puts a blanket over me, then goes over to a shelf where he keeps some hundred DVDs. He rubs his hands together and looks boyishly excited.

"Okay, let's see what we have. I'm afraid I don't have any romance movies if that is what you like, but comedies and action I have plenty."

"You assume I necessarily prefer a romance movie because I'm a girl?"

"I don't know what you prefer, just telling you what I have."

I don't feel like giving him a hard time when he is just being nice.

"I _do_ like romance, but I like comedy and action too, so I'm sure we'll find something I want to see."

He flips through some, read out loud from the back of a few, then suddenly looks very pleased.

"Ah, lovely! Here we have a comedy which actually qualifies as romance too. It is with Steve Carell and Emma Stone."

"I love Emma Stone."

"... and Ryan Gosling."

"I _love_ Ryan Gosling!"

He cocks an eyebrow.

"I should have known."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that _all_ women seem to be crazy about Ryan Gosling. I bet he is your free pass."

_You would be my free pass if I had one. _I didn't say that out loud, did I? Fortunately, I didn't, but why do unwanted thoughts keep popping up?

"Have you seen 'The Notebook'?"

"Nope."

"If you had you would understand."

"And what type of movie is that?"

"Romance..."

"Well, then I don't plan to see it in the foreseeable future", he smirks and put the film in the player.

"I need to go make a few calls but then I'll bring my laptop and keep you company. Okay?"

He leaves and I realise that even if his presence is unsettling, I miss him when he is gone. Soon enough I'm absorbed by the movie though, a hilarious romcom called 'Crazy stupid love'. Well, Steve Carell is funny, Ryan Gosling as hot as ever and I want to be Emma Stone because she achieves being both funny and hot.

"You want some popcorn to go with that?"

He has returned and brought a bowl of popcorn. He sits down in the sofa with the laptop on his lap and puts the bowl in the sofa, between us so we both can reach it. Then we sit there, he multitasks, writing some e-mails and watching the movie; I watch the movie and glance at him sideways and try to decide which one is the hotter; Ryan Gosling or him. Difficult to say. Both have beautiful smiles and impressive abs and are jerks (Ryan's character in the movie at least). The big difference is that one sits beside me munching popcorn, is very real and somehow makes me feel flushed with embarrassment when it is getting hot between Ryan and Emma on the screen. Sometimes we reach for popcorn at the same time and when our fingers meet, I quickly withdraw because it is like getting a mild electric shock. Maybe he added a tazer in the bowl just to mess with me. I would stop eating the popcorn if they weren't so delicious after my involuntary fast.

Despite a great movie and the thrill of Charles beside me, the flu is still lingering in my system and after a while I feel really tired. I lean my head back and decide to close my eyes only for a second. I don't want to fall asleep beside Charles.

When I wake up, the credits have started rolling on the screen. The popcorn bowl has been removed and somehow, I have slided so I'm resting on Charles. With one hand he is still tapping on his laptop which now is placed on his other side, in the sofa. His other arm is around me, supporting me and his hand absentmindedly stroking my hair. I'm not even sure he is aware of what he is doing, it may be like patting a dog to him, but I am now. Aware. _Very _aware and I love the feeling. Love it so much I just close my eyes and pretend to be still asleep. We stay like that for maybe an hour. It is very patient of him to let me stay like this because it can't be very efficient to use only one hand typing. It seems like he really doesn't want to disturb me, because when his phone calls he answers almost before the first signal has ended and talks in hushed voice.

"Hi... Yes... Can I call you back in a few hours? I'm in the middle of something important here. Bye."

Those must really be some important e-mails he is writing. The lovely warmth radiating from him, the soothing feeling of his touch to my hair eventually make me fall asleep again. When I wake up next, he is gone and I'm alone in the sofa with the blanket tucked around me.

I wonder how long I have slept. He must be eager to get rid of me by now.

As if he sensed I'm awake he appears in the door.

"Hi sleepyhead."

If I didn't know better, I would almost say he looks affectionate. He sits down beside me and the sofa dips from some 200 lbs. of muscle.

"Jackie just texted me to ask how you are and said she is home if you want to come home."

Disappointment bubbles up inside me.

"If you don't feel well enough to go home yet, you're welcome to stay. If you want to go, I'll drive you of course."

I want to stay. I could stay in this sofa forever especially if he were to resume stroking my hair like he did before, but I feel I have already over-stayed my welcome and can't possibly remain here another night.

"Thank you. I think it is about time I return home, so you have your house to yourself again."

He doesn't look anywhere nearly as pleased as I expected him to. Strange.

"Alright, as you wish. I suppose one's own bed is always most comfortable."

No, not really.

"Let me go get your clothes so you can get changed before we go then."

Charles' car is parked on the street right outside the house and I walk to it on my own two legs, but when we park near the building where mine and Jackie's flat is located, he opens the car door for me and without asking for permission scoops me up in his arms again and carry me inside. I feel incredibly much like a silly weak woman from some romance novel, but despite that I have slept most of the day I'm exhausted and don't have it in me to object.

The look on Jackie's face when our door swings open and she sees me in Charles' arms. She is so shocked that she just steps to the side and let him walk through and put me down on our sofa.

"There you are, home safe and sound."

He extends his hand to Jackie.

"I don't think we have been properly introduced but I'm Charles."

"I kind of figured. Thanks for taking care of Molly these days."

He looks down on me and smiles with twinkling eyes.

"My pleasure. Now take care of yourself and I don't want you back in the office until you feel 100% well. Is that understood?"

I almost mock salute him and say 'yes, sir', but the amazing way he has treated me makes me not want to joke. What he has done is really above and beyond what can be expected from a boss.

"Thank you", is all I say.

Then he is gone, and Jackie looks at me with a confused expression.

"What?"

"For someone who doesn't care about you, he seems to care an awful lot."

I shrug my shoulders.

"I suppose he felt he had no choice when I fainted in his house. He probably seemed cheerful now only because he finally got rid of me. This was a strange day, something out of the ordinary and I'm sure that when I'm back at the office, and I have met Alex again, everything will go back to normal. Charles will be my boyfriend. Alex will be my boss."

Jackie makes a funny face at me.

"Well, that was a Freudian slip if there ever was one."

"Not sure what you mean but my head is still messed up. I'm going to bed again."

"Sweet dreams", Jackie giggles.

That makes me wonder, I hope I didn't have any vivid dreams when Charles sat beside my bed. I will never know and that is for the better because then I would never be able to look him in the face again.


	13. Balls flying all over the place

_**A/N: After a busy week finally time for a Friday chapter. TGIF and hope you enjoy!**_

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**Chapter**** 13: Balls flying all over the place**

* * *

I don't like when things change, I really don't. A few months ago, I knew the routine and place for everything in this office, down to where each paper was filed, and new pens found, to who was working on which projects and having a crush on who. Outside work, I also had my fixed routines like picking out my outfits for the entire week on Sunday afternoons, and wine and takeaway food with Jackie every Friday evening. Now, all sorts of small changes seem to happen outside my influence, all the time and everywhere and I don't approve one bit. It makes me uneasy because it makes me feel like I'm not in control anymore. My middle name is 'always in control' and I only lost it completely once, with Carlos.

Starting at home, I have found that I'm unable to choose clothes for the entire week on Sunday, because when Wednesday morning arrive I may feel that the outfit chosen for that day isn't nice enough for the joint meeting I will have with Charles. Not that he notices what I'm wearing, but flats, a knitted jumper set and skirt may anyway feel too prudish all of a sudden and therefore needs to be swiftly replaced with heels, blouse and another skirt in the morning rush. Worse is, _all_ of Jackie's and my routines are disturbed by the fact that she goes to Madrid to work for a few months. It seems like she and Manolo stayed in touch after we returned from holiday. When there was an opening at her job to temporarily transfer to the Madrid office she jumped on it, because he goes to university there. My jaw dropped when she told me.

"You're moving to Spain?! What about us?"

"Temporarily Molly, and nothing happens to _us_", she smiles. "I will only be away for a few months. The company pays my rent there, so I can keep paying here so you don't need to have another flatmate in the meantime. All that will happen is that you have this flat to yourself for a while."

I don't want to have the flat to myself for a while, I want things to stay as they are.

"But wine and takeaway Friday? Sunday brunch? Bad romance movie night? And what about if I need your advice to handle unforeseen emergency situations?"

"You can have wine and takeaway or brunch with Alex and when it comes to advice you just call me on FaceTime. It will be like I'm in the room. You will hardly notice I'm gone before I return."

With all my heart I wanted to object and say it will _not_ be same. Alex and FaceTime could never replace having my best friend here, but I saw how incredibly happy she was about it, so I hugged her and said of course she should go. For once, it seemed like Jackie actually was fond of a guy. I hadn't even realised she too had left a piece of her heart behind in Spain, but she really likes Manolo. Now she is gone, and it is awfully empty. Alex is the constant in my private life, being his usual wonderful self but to be honest, he can never replace Jackie. The conversations I have with her are both funnier and deeper, even if what I have with Alex isn't bad. It is a pity I'm not a lesbian or Jackie a man, because then I easily would have spent the rest of my life with her.

I wish I could say Alex's and my sex life was getting hotter as compensation for my lost friend, but no such luck. In that department we certainly have a steady routine (which I won't bore anyone with), even if I wish it was more adventurous. Some evenings I really don't feel like sex at all and Alex does his best to convince me.

"Only the tip, Molls?"

"Seriously? Why would I want it with only the tip?"

I mean, that would be like having sex with a bloke with a really, really short dick.

"I promise you it will feel so good you won't want to stop once we get started."

I doubt this time would be so very different from all the previous ones, especially with only the tip. Ew, even the picture in my mind is disgusting.

"Nah, I'm not in the mood tonight. I'm tired. Maybe tomorrow."

I suppose I should be flattered he wants me badly, but it doesn't make me more inclined really. I turn my back to him and try to fall asleep, try not to think of amazing sex with a guy with twinkling brown eyes and a certain body part which was anything but short. I know I could be the one to hot things up instead of just escaping it, but I don't have it in me with Alex. He is sweet and caring and usually tries his best to turn me on with some fumbling foreplay, but the spark isn't really there. If I could wish for one change, that would be it. No, wait, if I only had one wish, it would be for Jackie to come home. Or maybe it would be that a certain someone had been honest with me, then at least my office would have been a safe zone from unwelcome change.

It would be nice if there was some continuity in _one_ part of my life and things stayed the same at work, or rather gone back to what they were before Charles came, but that is not the case. Anna successively hands over more and more responsibility to Charles. She is the type of leader who when she delegates something to someone, lets them do it their way. He has new ideas about how to run things and makes changes here and there. I must admit that they are not all bad, on the contrary. He _is_ a good leader, firm in his leadership yet open to others' input, one who prefers coaching people to do things well rather than bark at them when they didn't deliver, though I don't doubt he can do that too if required. In some ways he reminds me of Anna, but also brings new perspectives and experiences. I don't mind his leadership, but I still want things to stay as they were.

There is the complication of course that Charles is my boss but secretly also something more, especially after I stayed over at his place. Here at the office it has always felt like what happened between us on holiday wasn't real, it was a figment of my imagination and didn't make us close, just weird. When I returned to the office after the flu episode, I was a bit nervous, wondering what it would be like. Him taking care of me in his home, letting me sleep in his bed (okay spare bed), sharing his popcorn with me and caressing my hair when he thought I was asleep, has changed things. Not in a mind-blowing way, it is simply like reality has been slightly twisted. Like we have a secret connection. We did before too, but that connection wasn't formed here at home, in reality with us working in the same place. I'm not sure this newly formed bond is a good thing or just disconcerting. As he still is my boss and a proven liar, and I have a boyfriend, I'm leaning towards not entirely good even if it is nice in a way. Not that any of us openly acknowledge anything has changed, it is just a feeling I have sometimes when our eyes meet, or he smiles at me. It seems he has stopped avoiding me, he talks to me more than the job requires and there is a warm twinkle in his eyes. At least I think there is, maybe I'm mistaken. I still don't trust him, and I wish he would stop doing these things, yet I'm drawn to him somehow and don't avoid him as much as I could either. I enjoy our conversations and like his deep melodious laughter when he thinks I'm saying something funny. I don't know what to do about it.

Another change is that Anna behaves a bit weird lately. She seems out of spirits and looks tired despite that she has Charles relieving her workload. I have also noticed that she has blank appointments in her calendar, which she goes off to without telling me what it is about. As she obviously doesn't want me to know, I don't ask. I wonder if she somehow has gotten tired of running this company even if she has built it and is planning to hand it over to Charles completely and do something else. If so, will she bring me? I wish she would trust me and talk to me. We used to be such a tight team and now I feel left out. I guess Charles is her new confidante. It makes me both sad and jealous.

Georgie and I spend more time together, chat at our desks, often have lunch together, sometimes go for a drink. I enjoy her company, but she can't replace Jackie. Even if she is really kind, funny and friendly, she remains very private. More private than me when it comes to talking about relationships and that is uncommon. I have told her about Alex, only that we are seeing each other, not that I'm not so keen on him in bed and of course I haven't told her about Charles' and my history, but at least I share _something_. She doesn't say _anything_ about if she is seeing someone, not now or in the past. I started to wonder if she prefers women and therefore hesitates to share anything, so I tried to work into the conversation that I'm pro HBTQ people, but she doesn't take the bait. Finally, I give it up and accept that her love life is something she wants to keep to herself.

Then _The Business Trip_ happens and turns everything even more upside down.

One afternoon Georgie is all giddy with joy.

"You seem extra happy this afternoon?"

"Oh, I am! I got the most wonderful news! I have always wanted to go to Paris, but I have never been and now Charles has asked me to join him there for a business trip next week. I'm booking the flight tickets and hotel as we speak."

What!? The two of them are going to Paris alone?

"That's great! Will you have any spare time?"

"Days will be busy of course, there is a conference he wants us to attend and he has several meetings scheduled with different business contacts, but he has said evenings will be free to do what we want and on Sunday we have no engagements at all."

I plaster on a smile, try to be generous and happy for Georgie but it is like a cold hand is squeezing my heart. I feel jealous and scared. Georgie is a lovely, beautiful woman and not every man is looking for someone who has a super sharp intellect. For what I know she might be unattached and now she and Charles will spend seven days and nights together in Paris, one of the most romantic cities in the world. Maybe they will have candle lit dinners and stroll the streets hand in hand and they will for sure sleep in the same hotel. Who knows what may happen, they could easily end up in the same room. I know he can charm the pants of any woman should he wish to. Even if I hate the thought, I can't say anything against it. He is going on a business trip and he is bringing his PA, just as would Anna in the same situation.

"When are you leaving?"

"In three days already. I'm so, so excited! I have to go home and pack all my nicest clothes."

The week when they are gone, I'm living through hell. I shouldn't. I'm with Alex and shouldn't worry about if anything happens between my holiday fling/boss and his PA, but I do. I imagine them in all sorts of steamy or romantic situations and it makes me moody and tired because I can't sleep. I fear what it will be like when they return. What if they are lovers? What if they become a couple for real even admitting it openly at the office? I don't know if I can stay there then.

I know they are to return on a Tuesday. I make myself as pretty as I can this morning, pay extra attention to my makeup, hair and clothes. If this is a day when I will feel totally miserable, I will at least do it looking my best.

As usual, Charles arrives before Georgie who isn't a morning person. Both him and I are early birds, most days in the office before any of the others. I'm already at my desk and my heart makes a somersault when he walks through the lift doors. He is dressed in a dark wool coat and a scarf with Burberry's signature checked pattern and looks so incredibly handsome. Does his heart belong to Georgie now? He stops in front of me with a huge smile on his face and I realise how much I have missed him. Dear god, he seems awfully happy, they must have had a great time.

"Hi Molly, good to see you."

His voice is so smooth, soft somehow, like velvet.

"Good morning. How was your trip to Paris?"

I can hear how stiff and formal I sound, but it is difficult to sound any different when my heart is beating like crazy with anxiety though I really don't have any valid reason to feel like this. Please say it was disaster.

"Conference and meetings were good, the spare time even better. Paris is always amazing, even in autumn. It reminded me I have to return in the spring and not for business, only pleasure."

"I have never been there", I admit.

"Ah, neither had Georgie, but she really loved it too. It was great to be able to take her there. And how have things been here at the office?"

"Fine, as usual. Nothing special to report", I say and try to manage a smile even if I feel like I have something very heavy pressing on my chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, absolutely. I just need to finish these reports for Anna and I'm a bit tired. Late night with Alex last night."

I don't know why I said that, because it is not true. He fell asleep early on the couch, I lay tossing and turning and could not sleep because I feared what today would be like.

Charles smiles fades, and his face looks stern all of a sudden.

"Then I shouldn't keep you from doing your job. It's good to be back anyway."

"Can't be better than Paris?"

"As they say, home is where the heart is."

Ah, he brought the lovely Georgie to Paris and now both are home, so naturally he is happy to be home again too.

He disappears into his room and closes the door and I'm left, feeling totally miserable. It doesn't get any better when Georgie arrives. She slumps down on her chair and leans back with a dreamy expression in her eyes.

"Oh Molly, Paris was _so_ amazing. You _have_ to go there! All the beautiful buildings and parks, the cosy little streets and lovely restaurants. We really had the best time. We said we have to go there again in the spring, not for business, only pleasure."

As she speaks she is practically glowing with happiness, she has never been more beautiful.

"You and Charles?"

She looks a bit startled, like she has said too much.

"Well, we said we would go but not… not together", she stutters. Then she sits up and start tapping on her desktop. "I really need to get some work done now, a week away and I'm sure I'm behind."

She won't say anything more, but I get it. They had a wonderful time, they want to return again for a romantic non-business trip together in the spring. Apparently, they are together now. I can't even dislike Georgie for it because she is such a sweet girl and knows nothing of his and my history and still she is trying to be discrete now, but I hold it against _him_. Did he _have_ _to_ hook up with someone else here in the same office? Couldn't he have had the decency to fall for another of all the billion women there is in the world outside? Between him taking care of me when I had the flu, our nice conversations lately and him proving himself as a good leader I was beginning to think maybe he was a good guy after all, even if I still didn't understand why he did what he did in Spain. Now he shows his true scumbag colours again. He doesn't care if his new girlfriend is a close colleague to his holiday shag or that I will have to see them every day. I feel nauseous, I feel like crying and I feel so, so angry. This is so unfair. Who does shitty things like this? _He_, it seems. The worst thing is that I have to bottle all my feelings up, because I couldn't tell anyone at the office. The only one I can tell is Jackie over FaceTime.

"What?! He has a _girlfriend_ in the office? Are you sure?"

"The way they both talked about Paris, how great it was, how they want to return in spring, plus they look so happy. It is so obvious it was great beyond a successful business trip and now they are even making plans for the future."

"I just had the feeling, when you had the flu… He was so concerned about you, more concerned than Alex to be honest. Texted me little updates every now and then and I think he stayed up all night watching over you. And the way he looked at you when he dropped you off in our flat… I can't help it, I thought you and Alex would be history by now and Charles and you together."

"Nope, that's not going to happen. I'm in love with Alex and Charles is a lying jackass who moves on from one PA to another."

"You weren't his PA when you…"

"It's the _principle_, we are all in the same office."

"Molly, you haven't stopped to think it may be time to hear him out?"

"I wanted to, when I was at his house, but then he said _nothing_. Now I know he isn't interested in explaining himself anymore. He is just interested in Georgie."

"To be fair, _you_ have a boyfriend. You brought him to Charles' house."

"Not one in the office!"

"Okay, not need to be upset with me. I'm just trying to look at things from a different angle. Maybe you should ask yourself _why _you are so upset when you claim you are in love with Alex."

"I _am _in love with Alex and there is only one bleeding angle. Charles was never interested in a relationship with me. He was decent enough to take care of me when I fell ill in his house, that is all. He never had nor will have any feelings for me and now he is with Georgie, which shouldn't be a surprise really because she is so beautiful, and they will be the most amazing couple."

Jackie sighs and even on the small screen on my mobile I can see she isn't convinced.

"If you say so. My only advice is, don't draw any conclusions before you know what it really is like and don't let the green-eyed monster get better of you at work. Then it will be really awkward."

"I'm not jealous, I have Alex."

"Sometimes you don't know yourself very well, Molls", Jackie smiles fondly. "I have to hang up now, Manolo says hi."

"I miss you Jackie."

"I miss you too."

We disconnect, and I feel very lonely and misunderstood. Jackie is far away, Anna is distant even if she is here, and Georgie I can't confide in because she is tangled up in this. I just have to clench my teeth, muster my strength and get through this, trying to be the usual efficient PA machine on the outside even if my insides are in a turmoil.

In the days that follow I observe Georgie and Charles closely. They seem so happy and at ease, especially she is sparkling with joy. Maybe I should book myself a trip to Paris with Alex and I would return equally cheerful. To me, Charles stays the same way he has been since the flu episode; talkative, kind, smiling and when our eyes meet it is like he is searching for something at the bottom of mine. He is probably looking for confirmation I'm not bearing grudges for Spain still, so I won't out him the day he makes his relationship with Georgie official. The more I think of it, the more my blood is boiling. This isn't fair to her either, he really is a wolf in sheep's clothing, or rather a piece of shit in the disguise of a nice man. I'm determined though to follow Jackie's advice to avoid confrontation and stay cool and it works fine for a while. Until the leadership team fitness activity.

One of Anna's good traits as boss is that she is concerned with her employees having a sound work life balance. As a part of this she encourages all her employees to exercise regularly and sometimes take a longer lunch break to make time for it. A while back, she announced at the leadership team meeting that she wants the LT to set a good example.

"Once monthly, we will dedicate our lunch to a physical activity one of us has chosen. If you have ideas for the first occasion, just let me and Molly know an we'll make the arrangements."

I know what is coming. 1, 2, 3…

"Anna, if I may suggest…" Paul Philips says with unconcealed eagerness in his voice, even waving his hand like this was in school. Everyone knows he is a firm squash enthusiast and given the opportunity he won't stop talking about it. I once made the mistake to let him know I play regularly too and after that he thinks we are buddies and corners me at any given occasion to talk about squash. I like to play it, but I'm not interested in talking about it.

"…how about we all play squash on the first occasion? Maybe you all will be hooked and want to do it _every_ month", he chuckles. "What do you say Molly, isn't it the best sport in the world?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"I like it, but as I'm not part of the LT I assume I won't be taking part in this activity…"

"Of course, you will", Anna interrupts. "You know I consider you part of this group."

Okay, so this another of those things she won't let me skip. Sometimes it suits her to include me still.

Now squash day has come. Paul has arranged it all, reserved courts at his nearby squash club and we all go there together. Except Anna, who strangely announced last minute she couldn't join. I know there is something weird going on or she would never back out of this. Before we get changed, Paul chirpily announces that he has randomly assigned everyone to a partner and checks his handwritten list.

"Molly, you will pair up with Charles."

"What? Really? We're not exactly a physical match. I mean what with him being much taller and stronger than me."

I meet Charles' amused eyes. I'm so not up for playing with him. He and Georgie seemed to have terribly fun this morning going through something, I heard their laughter from his office. It made me cringe and now I don't return his smile. He looks slightly hurt and confused, as if he has no clue why I might be cross with him.

"Err, without sounding sexist, I think all of us are taller and stronger than you", Pauls excuses the pairing.

That is true. Besides Anna, there are two other women in the leadership team. Grace is on a business trip and Alison is an amazon not much shorter than Charles. None of the men is short-arsed like me.

"I'm sure it will be fine. I'll go easy on you", Charles teases. I'm not in the mood to be teased by him.

"Is that so? Go easy on me? Remember I'm the one playing squash."

"Then why are you complaining?"

It almost sounds as if he_ wants_ to play with me. The man really has no shame. Now that he is with her he could at least try to avoid me. Now there is no escape.

After we have changed we meet on our assigned court, or rather it is a separate room as you play against the walls, so it is just him and me, no one else. We haven't been alone like this after the flu incident, and it makes me nervous. Even more so because he looks so freaking sexy in trainers, black slim t-shirt and shorts that shows off those muscular legs I haven't seen since he was naked beside me in the bed in Frigiliana.

My heart races like crazy even before we start playing and his supreme calm and the fact that he seems to be looking forward to the game annoys the hell out of me. My frustration needs to come out somewhere, I simply have to release some steam and I play hard from my first serve. Paul has explained the rules to everyone, but Charles hasn't played before, so I have an advantage even if he is stronger. The fury in my play initially seems to take him by surprise and he makes a joke about it, but I just hit the ball hard again and he has to run. He tries small-talking, but I don't answer and soon he is too busy to try to keep up in the game, running across the court to catch my hard balls flying all over. He has wiped the smile off from his face and looks focused and strained. I don't calm down, I just feel angrier and strike harder and feel even angrier. God I really hate this annoyingly handsome, disturbing, kind, lying, smiling shagging sexgod. I can't believe he is with Georgie, can't believe he broke my heart, and it is his fault my world is changing. _I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!_

The ball hits him hard, right in the chest, because I aimed at him instead of the wall. Even if you have a rock hard chest like he has, that must hurt. He totally deserved it!

Charles seems to disagree. First, he just stares at me with face turned dark and eyes black like charcoal, then he throws the racket hard on the floor.

"You know you really shouldn't..." I start.

In three long steps he is right in my face, towering over me and grabs my wrist so hard it hurts and pulls me to him. I can see that he is really, really angry. So angry he looks dangerous, so furious I realise I have crossed a line.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Molly?! Enough! Enough of this childish nonsense! I thought we had moved on, that we were past… whatever… I thought we were becoming friends somehow after you were ill. Seems I was wrong. You really can't forgive and forget, can you? When are you going to stop punishing me for something you _think_ I have done, but won't even give me a chance to explain?"

"So now _I'm_ the bad guy? How the hell does that work out?!"

"I have been nothing but decent to you since I started here!"

"Oh, lucky me! Unfortunately for you I have a good memory and what you did _before_ you came here is bad enough to last a lifetime!"

"So you don't believe in giving someone a second chance?"

"Oh, I do. If they haven't been such a prize arse that it's like the size of twenty normal arses!"

"Is that what you think of me?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"Nothing I have done in the last few months matters?"

"I don't know, what _have _you done exactly? I think what you are doing now is so low so even an amoeba is above you."

I refer to seducing another office girl in front of my eyes, but I don't mention Georgie, I want to keep her out of his dirty business.

"I don't know what you're on about but I'm fucking tired of your games."

"Good, because I'm fucking tired of yours!"

His chest is heaving and so is mine, more from upset emotions than physical strain. We stare each other out without folding and I'm very annoyed he is so much taller because that gives him an unfair advantage in this power struggle. Not to mention he is physically stronger.

"You are hurting me."

He looks down like he only now became aware of that he is holding my wrist so hard and actually keeps my body pulled to his in a way that would be very pleasant if we were lovers instead of fighting. He lets go like I burn, takes a step back and looks irked, as if I have made him do something which he considers to be out of his own character.

He meets my eyes again, his still black pools of fury. At least I think that is what it is.

"I never meant to hurt you."

His voice is raspy and sounds like he means it.

"Well, you did."

He stomps out and slams the door and I'm left alone.

Game over.


	14. Sharing secrets

**Chapter 14: Sharing secrets**

* * *

We obviously finished our disastrous game long before the others. To my relief I don't see Charles anywhere when I leave the court, so I just shower, dress and head back to the office. When I'm about to sink down at my desk and dedicate myself to some safe activity like ordering new office supplies, Georgie stops me.

"Charles said to send you in to him the minute you came. He looked like a thunder cloud. What happened at the squash club?"

"Nothing."

She raises her well-shaped eyebrows.

"Fine. We didn't agree how to play the game."

She looks curiously at me but seems to pick up the vibe there is no point in asking more. I sigh and realise I may just as well take the bull by its horns.

My legs are a bit wobbly as I knock on the door and enter Charles' office. My anger and consequently my anger-fuelled courage have faded. He stands by the huge window, looking out on the city, positioned with feet shoulder-width apart and arms defensively folded across his chest. He has replaced the sweaty t-shirt with an impeccable navy suit, his hair is still damp after the shower and when he turns, the face is hard and cold. If someone were to make an oil painting of him in this moment, they could call it '_A study in sternness'_.

"Sit." He says with grim voice, and I do.

I don't even attempt to say anything. I know I went too far and now when the heat of the moment has passed I'm regretting it and mostly feel like crying. I'm afraid of what he is about to say. At the court he did not hide his wrath, now his face is a mask of steely indifference and I feel like his piercing dark eyes are pinning me to the chair.

"Listen carefully, Molly. We can't have it like this. It is unacceptable. A workplace has to be professional to be efficient, not filled with emotions and intrigue worthy a daytime soap. I just can't have that. If it was up to me I would let you go, but you are Anna's employee and I can't deny that you are doing a bloody good job when you do just that."

I just sit quietly, showing him that he has my full attention, listening respectfully as he expects. I feel a need to keep my eyes wide open, fearing that if I blink they may fill up with tears that could find their way over the brim and that is the last thing I want right now. I keep my hands clasped in my lap, so they won't tremble. I hate this situation.

"I'm going to give this one more chance where I expect you to stay within professional boundaries and act like we are the boss and employee we actually are. Whatever issues you have with me, you need to keep them out of this office. If that doesn't work out, I will have no choice but to talk to Anna about how to deal with it. She needs us to be fully focused on getting the job done, especially now. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal clear."

I have never wanted to mix emotions and work. I never did before he arrived, but he has complicated things and I don't even recognise myself anymore. I don't tell him that though, not to push my luck. Neither do I ask what he means by 'especially now'. What _does_ that mean? Does he know something I don't?

"Good. Then you can leave."

He turns to the window again, indicating the conversation is over and I do as he commands.

In the doorway, before leaving the room, I glance back at him and catch him letting out a big sigh with eyes fixed on the ceiling, as he rakes his hand through his hair. It gives me some comfort to see he found this conversation hard too. He may be stone-faced, but he _has_ emotions. Then I leave quickly before he sees that I saw.

* * *

"Molly, will you join me for a drink after work? Down at _Shelly's_?" Anna asks.

_Shelly's_ is the fancy bar around the corner.

I was to meet Alex, but it has been too long since Anna and I spent time together outside work and I have missed it. I also sense she wants to talk about something special. Maybe I will finally get to know now what she has been up to lately.

"I'd love to."

Alex will have to wait.

A week has passed since the squash showdown and life in the office is painful. If things were heated when Charles walked away from that court, they are completely freezing ice cold now. We don't look at each other, don't even acknowledge each other's existence except for what is absolutely necessary not to make others wonder. He is nothing to me, or at least so I pretend. I'm nothing to him and that hurts. I have such mixed emotions when it comes to him. I want him to disappear from my life. I want him to wrap me up in his arms and never let go. I'm becoming increasingly uncertain as to where Alex fits in all this. The problem is that the happily oblivious Alex has more or less moved in with me. I never said he could. He just brought more and more of his stuff over during the last weeks and now comes over every night, not really leaving me any space to think things over. I don't feel like taking that conflict too right now, but I haven't given him a key of his own anyway. Said Jackie has the only other copy in Spain. I'm not sure I feel the way I should for him, feel love the way he deserves, but it is comforting to come home to someone who wants to be with me when everything else is shit right now.

Anna has chosen a secluded corner of the bar. She orders the G&T we both normally have for me and just a tonic for her. I wonder why. She can't be pregnant, can she? I thought she and Malcolm were done having kids. Now she clears her throat as if to make an announcement.

"There is something I need to tell you."

I knew it, she is leaving!

"I have breast cancer."

I just knew it... Wait, what?

"You have..."

"Breast cancer."

I just stare at her.

"Are you absolutely sure? I mean, you have seen a doctor?"

"Unfortunately, yes, I'm sure."

"Oh Anna." I jump up from the bar stool I just sat down on and hug her.

"So, so, don't make me cry", she says with muffled voice against my shoulder, but I don't let go. We stay like that for a while and I don't mind my blouse is getting damp. Finally, I let go of her thin frame. She has always been a strong mind in a delicate body and I hope her strength will take her through this. I sit down and take a much-needed gulp of the G&T. We both wipe away a few eloping tears.

"How long have you known?"

"A month maybe. I didn't want to worry you before everything was set."

"Set? Things don't have to be set for you to tell me. I had the notion something was wrong, but I thought you were thinking about leaving the company without bringing me with you."

"I could never leave Ethica Trading. It is my baby, you know that. And _if_ I did, I would always bring you", she smiles.

"I couldn't figure out what else you would feel compelled to hide from me. Please tell me everything from start."

"Well, I was doing this monthly self-exam one is supposed to do and was unpleasantly surprised when I felt a lump that hasn't been there before. I thought it was just some swollen gland but made a doctor's appointment to be on the safe side. I went there expecting him to say I'm a hysteric woman over-interpreting things and tell me to go home again, but he didn't. He took it so seriously it scared the shit out of me. Turns out I have a small tumour in my left breast."

She looked down on her breast.

"It so strange... When I was a teen these were my biggest assets, then they served me well breast feeding my lovely babies and now something evil which might kill me is growing there. Like an enemy within. I haven't quite come to terms with that."

"But it won't, right? Kill you?" I whisper, shocked.

"I certainly hope not! I'm scheduled for surgery next week, then radiation therapy will follow. I hope that kills the evil little cancer cells instead of me. It is stage 1 so prognosis is good."

"Will you have to remove the whole breast?" I say aghast. Not that losing a breast is anything compared to a life, but it would be such a big procedure for her to go through.

"No, they don't think that is needed, just what they call a lumpectomy where they remove the tumour and some tissue around it. I will be away from work for some time though."

"That doesn't matter as long as you get well."

I grasp her hand and squeeze it. I wouldn't know what to do without Anna in my life, she is so much more than my employer. She is my friend, mentor and role model. Just like with Jackie, no one else could ever fill that space completely.

"I know you don't fancy changes much, but I'm leaving it all in the capable hands of Charles. I'm so lucky I brought him in before all of this happened, or I wouldn't have known what to do now."

Oh my god, of course she will hand over to Charles. I don't know how to survive that, but the most important thing is that _she_ survives. I can't trouble her with my trivial issues.

"So Charles knows?"

"I told him a few weeks ago, to prepare him for my absence."

So that was what he meant by that Anna needed us especially now. I'm hurt he knew before me, but it also explains further why he thought my behaviour so childish and inappropriate.

"I know what you're thinking Molly, that we know each other so well I should have told you before him. Maybe I should have, but as I said I didn't want to trouble you before I knew what would happen."

"You're right, I wish you had told me sooner but not for my sake. I'm your friend. I want you to tell me hard stuff, so I can be there for you."

"Do _you_ Molly?"

"Do I what?"

"Tell me about hard stuff? You used to but now I don't know anymore."

I feel a bit choked.

"I don't know, there's nothing special going on in my life."

"How about Charles?"

"What about him?" I asked, alarmed.

"I see how you circle around each other. First I thought you just disliked him..."

"I don't d..."

"Then I realised you're in love with him."

Horrified I stare at her.

"I'm not!"

"You're not?"

"I can't be! I loathe him! If you knew what he has done you would understand."

"Enlighten me then", she smirks. "Wasn't it you who said we should share our sorrows?"

"I don't want to trouble you with that. I know you are pleased with his work and especially now when you need him, that is all that matters."

She looks at me silently, then nods.

"Fine, you don't have to share right now, but I want to tell you something about the night at Charles' house when you passed out. I don't think you remember much of that evening because of your feverish state. I never should have pushed you to go but I didn't understand you were ill for real."

"Of course, you wouldn't believe that as I had tried to get out of it before. You're right I don't remember much. What about that evening?"

"When you passed out, Charles was out of himself with concern for you. He called for me to help him get a doctor and then he carried you upstairs to a bed, holding you in his arms like you were the most precious thing. He barely left your side to say farewell to the other guests. When he did, he realised that your devoted boyfriend was standing by the bar, or rather was sprawled over it, pissed out of his nut. He didn't worry about you one bit, he had just kept drinking and now he complained because Charles was breaking up the party. Charles saw red and threw him out on his arse. I know he had been prepared to offer Alex another spare bed if he had seemed to care."

I cringe inside. I wasn't prepared to hear this about Alex. I wasn't prepared to hear this about Charles either.

"He was so protective of you. Made sure to leave the room when I changed your clothes. I tried to joke with him and say you would never know anyway but he just looked at me seriously and said that wasn't the point. He just didn't want to do anything that could make you uncomfortable if you knew about it. Then he sat by your side, dabbed your forehead with cold towels, made you sip water, didn't leave you, hardly slept. Whenever I called him that weekend he was watching over you. He must have been exhausted when he returned to work on the Tuesday, yet he seemed very happy. I even caught him whistling."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I think the man you claim you dislike so much, cares deeply for you. I'm convinced he is very much in love with you. I can't say the same for this boyfriend of yours, who also behaved vile through the whole party even if you don't remember."

"What did he do?"

"Besides drinking too much and not caring about you, he made all sorts of strange comments. Like how important his job was and unimportant yours is. I understood from Charles that before you passed out, he accused you two of having an affair."

"Noooo. It can't be right."

"Which part?"

"All of it. I mean, none of it. Alex is always so sweet..."

"When he drinks?"

"Err, no. I admit there has been occasions when he behaves badly when he has been drinking, but anyway the other part I know you are absolutely wrong about. Charles can't possibly have feelings for me. He treated me in a shitty way. He has feelings for someone else in the office, I'm sure of it."

"I very much doubt that, darling. Anyone who saw that man carry you to bed would agree he was a man in love. Ask Malcolm."

"What has _he_ got to do with it?"

"He saw you two and said, 'Ah, now I get it. _That_ is who she belongs with, not the drunken twat downstairs.

"He didn't say that, you're making it up."

"I'm not. I promise. I don't know what happened between you and Charles before or after that evening, but it seems to me you need to talk to each other for real, or you will both be very unhappy."

"Oh, Anna. I _am_ unhappy. I don't know what is right or wrong anymore. I feel like I have painted myself into a corner and don't know how to get out."

"Then tell me and I'll try to help you get out of there."

"It just feels wrong to focus on my petty problems when you just have told me you have cancer."

"It obviously isn't petty to you when it makes you this miserable, plus I spend far too much time talking about and thinking of this lump anyway and would love to talk about something else."

"Okay, fine then."

So, I tell Anna the story from beginning to end. How I met Charles pretending to be Carlos in Spain, then heard nothing from him until the day I faced him in her office; that I'm pretty sure he is dating Georgie now and how we had a huge fight when we played squash. Anna's expressions shift between astonishment, amusement and bewilderment.

"Christ, what a story! I don't even know what to comment on first. No, I do! Molly, I'm so proud of you, you did exactly what I hoped you would on your holiday! Had fun!"

"Wish I hadn't, then none of the rest would have happened."

"Are you trying to claim you would abstain from what you had with Carlos for anything?"

I give it some thought.

"Nooo..."

"Exactly! You had the time of your life. Things like that you can't regret no matter what follows after."

Then she frowns.

"I can't imagine what made Charles act like that though. Both because it seems so unlike everything I have seen of him, totally out of his character and because he seems to have feelings for you."

"But now you must understand why I'm certain he _doesn't_ have feelings for me, then he would never have done like that. He is a playboy with a string of girls after him in his past, so I was probably just another one."

"How do you know?"

"There is some pretty solid evidence for that on Instagram and online tabloids and blogs", I admit my snooping bashfully.

"That isn't known to be the most trustworthy source for information. I wish you had let him explain, then we would know instead of assume or guess."

"I wish so too, but I felt so angry and betrayed that I was convinced I never would want anything to do with him no matter what he said. I refused to hear him out when he wanted to talk. Now it is too late. He is with Georgie and doesn't care to explain anymore. I went too far on that squash court, so now he won't even look at me."

"Are you really sure about him and Georgie?"

"I think so."

"Hmmm. I still think you're wrong there, but I can't know for sure. I think you need to swallow your pride, apologise to him and hear him out. Tell him you are ready to do that. Not for his sake, but for your own."

"You're probably right, but now I don't even know how to approach him about it. He was so mad, Anna, and he ordered me to keep my emotions outside the office going forward."

"Well, I'm _his_ boss and now _I_ tell you not to. Do you think a man who was indifferent would react like that?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't know."

"Just do it. And one more thing I must say. I didn't want to meddle but now I feel I have to; you need to ditch Alex. If he hadn't been such a dick at the party I would feel sorry for him, because you're clearly not in love with him."

"How can you be so sure about that, when I'm not?"

"Okay, a few simple questions. Does what you have with Alex feel _anything_ like what you and Charles had in Spain? Emotionally? Physically? "

"Err, no."

"When you have sex, is it him you think about?"

I feel myself blushing.

"No..."

"If it turned out Charles was a decent bloke after all, who would you chose; him or Alex?"

"Umm... I... I don't know?" I stutter.

"I think you do, but you're afraid to admit it."

"Anna, even if Charles is the hottest man I have ever known, I don't know how I would be able to trust him after what he did. You know I don't easily trust guys after Artan."

"Oh, I know, you are more suspicious than Miss Marple."

"And Charles proved I was right to be! Alex too if he was as horrid at Charles' party as you say."

"But Charles' actions at that party and the entire weekend, don't they prove the contrary? That he is willing to be there for you, take care of you, without even expecting anything in return?"

"I don't know, it is just really hard."

Now Anna takes my hand.

"Only you can know in the end, but my advice is; listen to your heart instead of fighting against it."

I bite my lip and nod.

"Another drink?" she asks.

"I think I need that. I'm not sure it will solve everything, but it sure feels great to be talking to you for real again."

"I feel the same. Should we drink to not keeping things secret from each other again?"

"Yes please."

At least one thing is right in my world again, even if everything else, including Anna's cancer, still sucks pretty much. I hope I can make everything right.


	15. The benefit

**A/N: ****If anyone wonders why at ****the beginning of this chapter Molly hasn't ditched Alex yet after what Anna told her, it continues already the day after they met in the bar, so Molly hasn't had much time to act. She is also preoccupied with everything going on with Anna plus we all know how easy it is to postpone something unpleasant and hope it will solve itself. Just explaining so you don't get too frustrated with her lack of action even if we all would drop Alex like a hot potato and throw ourselves in the arms of CJ :)**

**I enjoy writing this chapter so much I just had to finish it over lunch. Hope you enjoy too.**

**Oh, nearly forgot; inspirational song for last part has been Ed Sheeran's Beautiful people on repeat.**

* * *

**Chapter 15: The benefit**

* * *

Anna and Charles have called to an extra staff meeting this morning. Everyone is gathering, and I hear them talking in hushed voices, wondering what this is all about. There is the feeling in the air that something big is going on. Speculations are maybe the company is not doing well, or we are up for a merger. There are always competitors trying to buy us, but Anna has firmly resisted up to now. Some of the staff members approach me because they know I use to know everything, but I tell them that they will have to wait for Anna's announcement.

She looks great today. Her lob cut hair is blow dried to shiny perfection and she wears a red dress and matching lipstick. Like she wants her whole appearance to exude 'fuck cancer' and tell everyone this is a fight she doesn't intend to lose. All the employees adore her, and she doesn't want to leave us in low spirits when she goes off to have surgery. Charles is standing on the side, leaning against the wall, ready to step in when she gives the sign. Tall and imposing, in spotless suit, shirt and tie as usual. He looks solid and dependable, looks like someone we all can trust and lean on when Anna is gone.

It is the first time I _really_ look at Charles since he told me off in his office. We have so stubbornly avoided each other that we haven't looked one another in the face since that day, but now I do. His expression is blank, does not reveal what he is thinking, but for the first time I notice how dispirited his eyes are and the shadows under them. If one looks beyond his impressive figure and suit, he looks tired, but not only from lack of sleep, more like he is tired to his core. _He looks like I feel_. Does he feel the same way I do? Like my life isn't right when he is not in it.

His gaze shifts and for a moment our eyes lock. Is it possible that I make him feel this way? I don't want to make him feel like that, not any more. When he started here I did. I wanted him to feel that working in this office was such a struggle that it wasn't worth it, so he would leave. Now, I want him to stay. I want the things Anna said to be true. I want him to be in love with me and I want to tell him I'm in love with him. I wish there is a good reason for what he did to me and I want to move on beyond that. I want to hug him and kiss those dark shadows away from his face, but maybe that is not the remedy he needs. Maybe he just worries about Anna's illness and taking over the lead from her. Maybe it is too late for us to reconcile or maybe there never even was a seed to an 'us' despite what Anna thinks. Either way I need to know, need to try. I have the urge to mime 'I'm sorry' but feel it would be too little and at the wrong time. Instead, I smile. For the first time in a very long time I flash him a genuine smile. First, he looks surprised. Then he hesitantly returns the smile and it is like someone instantly had photoshopped away some of the shadows from his face and I get this warm glowing feeling inside. Our little moment is interrupted when Anna calls for everyone's attention and we both turn to her. Now he is busy filling Anna's shoes, so the company can survive in her absence and doesn't have time to think about me (_if_ he did for a second, I can't be sure if I just imagined), but I feel that his brief smile can keep me going for the day.

Anna's news is met with dismay, but she manages to share them seeming confident everything will be all right and Charles adds to it with capable calm. At the end of the meeting everyone is convinced she will be cured, and in the meantime, Charles will handle everything without disruption to the business or the employees. They have saved the day.

I join her in her office afterwards.

"How did I do?" she asks.

"You were brilliant, as usual. How do you feel?"

In her office there is a fancy design lounge pod chair in the shape of a big egg. Now she sinks down in it, kicks off her heels and sighs.

"I feel all those things I said in there, we are going to make this and I'm sure Charles, and you, will run everything so well that they barely even notice I'm gone."

"But you feel something else too, don't you?"

I know Anna too well not to know. Right now, she looks like a red little scared bird in that oversized egg.

"I do. I'm afraid Molly. I'm afraid they will start the surgery and discover that damn lump is larger than they thought, or there are more lumps, that the cancer has already spread to my lymph nodes and will spread throughout my body, that they will have to remove the entire breast and still it won't be enough to kill the fucking cancer. Instead it will kill me, and I'll leave all of you and my family, my kids behind. That I won't live to see them grow and have kids of their own and that Malcolm will be a widow. I'm really, really afraid of all of those things."

I know she doesn't want me to say everything will be all right, because neither of us can know that for sure, so I say the things I do know are true.

"I understand if you are afraid and I am too because I don't know what I would do without you, but you are strong Anna, a real fighter, and you discovered the cancer early thanks to your self-exam. If anyone has a good chance of making it through, it is you. And we are here for you, all of us, your family, me, Charles, the entire office. We can't cure you, but we can stand by you and we will for sure, every step of the way. Is it alright if I come over and hug you even if we are in the office?"

"Of course, it is", she smiles with eyes glazed with tears. She moves to the side in the egg chair, so I can come and sit beside her. I kick off my shoes too and we sit there for long, me with my arm around her shoulders and we lean to each other. I'm not sure who is comforting who in this moment, but it doesn't really matter.

"Have I ever said that I love you? I don't think I have because after all you are my boss, but I do, and you just have to make it through this."

"I love you too, Molly, but you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I think I might have guessed", I smile and have to fight not to start crying because I know if I do it will be like opening up a floodgate and it would never stop. I know she is fighting with the same, so we just stay silent for a while.

"You will talk to Charles, right?" she breaks the silence.

"I will, but I don't think today is the right day. He has enough on his plate and I'm not really in the right frame of mind either. I promise I will. I smiled at him before, you know."

"I'm glad to hear it." I can hear the amusement in her voice even if I don't see her face. "What did he do then?"

"He was shell-shocked, obviously, but then he smiled too."

"You see, it isn't that hard."

"It was just a smile. It doesn't mean we have made up or cleared what you think is misunderstandings but may very well be the way things are. He may still be a playboy, he may still be with Georgie."

"Nevertheless, it is a small step in the right direction. It felt good, didn't it?"

"I suppose it did."

"Come on Molly, you can do better than that. We promised no more secrets and I have spilled my guts."

"What do you want me to say? That when he smiles at me it is like someone has set off a firework inside me and I feel so fuzzy and warm through and through that it feels like I must be glowing on the outside?"

"Is that what it is like?"

"Yes", I admit with feigned grumpiness.

"That's just lovely. It reminds me of how I used to feel when Malcolm smiled at me before he had the courage to ask me out the first time. I still feel like that, even if I forget it sometimes because I have become so used to the luxury of always having all of him and not just fleeting smiles. I'm glad you reminded me, I will tell him tonight. He is the only one who ever has made me feel that way."

"Don't you think he knows?"

"I'm _sure_ he knows, but that shouldn't stop me from telling him he is the love of my life and always will be. This actually reminds me I have one favour to ask of you."

"Anything."

"Malcolm and I were supposed to attend this benefit on Friday, you know dinner and dancing to raise money for a good cause. I bought the tickets, _very_ expensive ones I must say, before all this and now we can't go of course. Ironically, it is to raise money for children who have a lost a parent to cancer, so I would really like Ethica Trading to be represented there. Will you take my tickets and go?"

"Are you sure? Don't you want to give them to Charles instead? I mean, he is the face of the company for now. No one knows who I am."

She looks a bit embarrassed but maintains what she said.

"I want _you_ to go."

I know it will be odd to take Anna's place and the only plus one I have to bring is Alex, which means I have to postpone the talk I must have with him until after Friday, but I don't know how to say no to her given the circumstances. Anyway, probably better to have The Talk on a weekend, unless Alex turns out to be such a marvellous date on Friday that I change my mind. Would it be very selfish of me to bring him? It can't be that selfish when I do it for Anna's sake, can it? Why can't life be less complicated.

"Okay, I'll do it for you."

"It is a party, not a punishment", she giggles. "But thank you."

There is a light knock on the doorframe and we look up to find Charles standing there.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" he smiles apprehensively, seeing us sitting so close in a huge egg, dangling our bare feet.

"Just girl's talk." Anna reaches down and puts on her heels again, ready to step into her professional shoes for a few more hours before she goes on sick leave. "Charles, you promise me to take good care of Molly when I'm away, right?"

"Err, of course I will, though my impression is she is quite capable of taking care of herself."

There is a tinge of pink on his cheeks. I feel embarrassed too, wishing Anna wasn't so obvious about that she wants us to be good friends, or more.

"She is stubborn as a mule, but she has a heart of gold, you know", she winks at Charles.

"I'm sure she has", he says with a voice strangely devoid of irony.

Christ, won't she just stop, but I guess she feels she has to look after me before leaving. Put everything in place in case she doesn't return. I can't stand it anymore.

"As you anyway talk about me as if I wasn't here, "_She_" will take that as "_her_" cue to leave."

Anna just looks amused, meanwhile Charles continues to look as embarrassed as I feel. When I'm about to walk out the door, he moves to let me through, but moves in the wrong direction to where I intended to go, so we end up colliding instead. There is the solidness of his hard body, the scent of his aftershave and the touch of his hands when he keeps me from tripping over. It all sends a rush of want through my body. I look up into his face and I'm not sure I manage to hide it and for a second his pupils dilate too.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I mean for _everything_ and I think maybe he gets it, then I leave, spurt for the toilets, have a little nervous breakdown and wish I could call Jackie for an emergency bar visit to discuss how to deal with everything. Charles, Alex, the bloody charity event I'm not up for and have no choice but to bring Alex to, but she is in Spain, so I guess I will have to figure it out on my own.

* * *

The following evening Anna asks me to come over to her house. She has a few days off to be with her family before the surgery next week but told me to come and pick a dress from her amazing walk-in closet.

"That is the least I can do, when you go in my place. I can't very well expect you to get a fancy frock for the occasion", was the last thing she said before wistfully leaving the office yesterday.

"So, who will you bring?" she asks now, whilst flipping through different dress options and dismissing them.

"I asked Alex and he was happy to come."

"You asked _Alex_?!" She turns to me in disbelief.

"Who else did you think I would ask? He _is_ my boyfriend still, even if you know I'm contemplating what to do with that, and it's not like I have a line of men to choose from to bring you know."

"No, of course not. I just thought you wouldn't… that maybe you would bring Jackie instead."

"I didn't even know it was an option to bring another woman and anyway Jackie is still in Spain."

"Oh, I had forgotten about that."

"You have more important things to worry about. It's no problem. I mean, we haven't had a chance to talk properly yet and he has been really sweet this week, so well, I don't mind bringing him. Then we'll see what happens after that."

"Molly, I'm sorry, I didn't think. I didn't mean to put you in that position, so you have to postpone talking to him if you have decided to."

"Well, now it is too late because I asked him, and he was thrilled."

She looks worried.

"Drinks are free, or rather included in that outrageously expensive ticket, so you may need to watch out."

"I can ask the waiter to serve him the non-alcoholic option without telling him", I giggle.

Truth is, I'm joking and even telling white lies not to worry Anna. If it wasn't for this charity event I wouldn't have made _any_ plans with Alex this weekend except having that dreaded conversation. He has _not _been sweet at all the past two evenings. I never saw him the evening after Anna's and my bar visit, but he called me repeatedly and left several text messages, complaining he could not get into "our" flat, until I told him it was _my_ flat and I preferred to be alone that night. Yesterday he came over, still in a foul mood and expected me to apologise. He complained the fridge was empty of food and beer and then went on to order pizza paying with my card. _One_ pizza, for himself. When I told him about Anna being ill he said; 'But she's just your boss, not your friend, right?', asked no more and greedily ate his pizza without offering me a slice.

It is like talking to Anna has opened my eyes to thousands of small things I willingly overlooked before, probably because I wanted him to be perfect. I see now that he really is a dick and if it hadn't been for the benefit I would have thrown him out then and there, ending with the pizza on top of his head. First, I felt bad for stringing him along this week when I already have decided to break up, just to have someone to bring to the benefit, but after that remark about Anna I stopped having a bad conscience. He will get free food and drinks, so he will probably be in his right element, even if I need to watch out so he doesn't get too drunk.

In addition to the conversation with Anna, the smiles I exchanged with Charles yesterday and my feelings when we collided, emphasized how I am with the wrong man. No matter if Charles is with Georgie or if he doesn't have feelings for me anyway, it is now glaringly clear to me I'm not supposed to be with Alex because he simply is not right for me. Now, I'm just longing to get it over and done with. It is ironic I'm postponing it for Anna, when she was the one who pushed me to break up. I don't want to put burden on her shoulders by telling her though. I will borrow a marvellous dress from her, try to enjoy Friday evening with Alex and then we have to see what the weekend brings. Probably a breakup.

"Here I think we have the right dress for you", Anna interrupts my thoughts holding up a dress which would suit on any red carpet. "Please try it on."

* * *

Friday afternoon I leave the office early to get ready for the evening. After all, it is a job event. I have barely seen Charles after we collided in Anna's office. Anna decided to send out a small press release announcing up front that she is ill and Charles temporarily will take the lead, because she thought it was better communicating the truth openly than having rumours floating around. She is probably right, but it resulted in many of our customers and collaborators requesting meetings with Charles, so he hasn't had a minute free. Even if I'm desperate to talk to him, the timing isn't right. Also, I feel that if I am to do things by the book, the right thing is to end things with Alex first, _then_ talk to Charles. This means that come Friday, I haven't had any of the two serious one-to-one conversations I must have to get peace of mind. I hope the evening will be enjoyable anyway.

When I open the door for Alex coming to pick me up, I'm happy despite all that, because I have never felt so beautiful. I wear my hair in loose waves in old Hollywood style, but with one big clasp holding it in place so it falls over one shoulder. I have red lipstick on which I usually never do, and it looks very glamorous I must say. The dress I borrowed from Anna is a backless floor-length one, made of a gold-shimmering fabric. In one way it reminds me of the gold-shimmering dress I borrowed from Jackie in Spain, for my date with Charles. However, this material is heavy and exclusive and falls beautifully around the shape of my body, covering yet showing off every curve. Sort of compensating for the entire back being bare, it doesn't have a deeper cleavage than showing my collarbones, which I quite like. I find it classy and alluring and just amazing. I love everything about it. I spin around in front of Alex, eager to show him. For a moment I forget all the trouble and he simply feels like my boyfriend who has come to get me for a lovely evening and I want to share my happiness with him.

"It's nice, I suppose..."

"It's nice you suppose!?"

Maybe I shouldn't care what he thinks, but I can't help being terribly disappointed by his reaction when I feel like a movie star ready to enter the red carpet.

"I like the back, but a bit more cleavage and a slit wouldn't hurt. I mean, you don't have very big tits Molls, so you should off what you have."

"I think it is beautiful."

"Oh, it is. It's just a bit... prudish from the front."

He pecks me on the cheek and I refrain from telling him that his dinner jacket isn't perfectly sized, too big over the shoulders and the sleeves are too long. I swallow the disappointment he leaves me feeling. In one go he told me the dress I'm wearing isn't sexy enough and my boobs are a bit small to his taste. I wonder if he will be sad at all when I break up with him, considering my shortcomings in appearance and that he didn't seem to bother at all when I was ill. Anyway, I feel more convinced than ever that breaking up is the right decision. I just have to live through this evening and hope the rest of it will be better than the beginning.

We arrive at the exclusive hotel where the benefit is hosted in a huge, fancy ballroom. I have never been to a posh event like this and despite that my dress clearly fits in, I feel a bit lost when we enter. Immediately a waiter appears from nowhere and offers champagne from a silver tray. Alex takes two glasses but doesn't hand me one as could be expected. Instead he immediately necks the first and grins at me.

"Free booze, I already like this party."

Is he getting worse by the minute or was I completely blind before? I grab a flute myself from the next passing tray and wonder if it was a mistake to bring him if he can't behave when there is free alcohol.

"Molly, hiiiiii!" I turn around and Georgie comes gliding towards me, strikingly beautiful as always.

"Georgie, hi. Didn't know you would be here."

I'm truly happy to see her though. As the tickets for this event are ridiculously expensive, she must have been invited by someone too because you can't afford this on our PA salary.

"Didn't you know? Anna bought four tickets for Ethica Trading to be represented, for her and Charles plus ones. I heard she had given hers away but didn't know to who. I'm so glad it was to you!"

No, Anna somehow managed omit telling me that tiny detail.

"So, Charles gave his tickets to you?"

Not strange if he too gave his away after this busy week.

"No, silly. _I'm_ Charles plus one, he is here with me. Just getting me a drink. My stomach gets a bit sour from too much fizz, so he is getting me a G&T over at the bar instead."

She laughs her typical hoarse little laughter and I try to comprehend what I just heard. I can't believe Anna has put me in this situation, given everything I have told her.

"Won't you introduce me to your boyfriend?"

I'm still trying to get over that Charles is here with Georgie as his plus one and will no doubt be at the same table as us, as Anna bought all the tickets. This evening can hardly get any worse. Then I turn to introduce Alex and realise that it _can _get worse, because his eyes are fixed on Georgie and nearly popping out. To be specific, they are firmly fixed on her impressive cleavage. Georgie has opted for a dress where less is more in terms of fabric. It is short and sleeveless, shows most her back _and_ has a deep décolletage. To be honest, I don't think it is very stylish, but Alex seems to think differently. When I turn to introduce him to Georgie, he almost throws himself forward, shaking her hand eagerly, too long and too hard, smiling wide first to her beautiful face then looking down on her notable rack still smiling. God, I feel so ashamed, but Georgie seems to be at ease with the attention.

"Hi, I'm Alex. Nice to meet you, very nice indeed."

"Nice to meet you too. I think we will be sharing table, it will be such fun. Oh, here comes the lovely Charles with my drink."

I see Alex frown at the mentioning of Charles, not his favourite since he threw him out I presume. Trembling on the inside I turn to face Charles.

"Charles, look who is here! Molly and her boyfriend", Georgie announces cheerfully, and I feel like sinking through the floor, maybe continue further down through the crust of the earth into the really hot centre which is made of lava or magma or whatever it is called and just melt away there. _Anything _to get away from here.

Charles stops in his tracks and stares at me. Obviously, Anna had not told him either who she gave her ticket. We stand there a few feet from each other and it is like all sounds around us, the music, the talking become a bit muffled and the only thing I'm really super aware of is his intense brown eyes on me. I get the feeling we are breathing in the same pace, our hearts beating with the same rhythm resounding in my ears.

"Are you going to give me that drink or what?" Georgie giggles and the moment is gone.

I'm reminded we both are here with others. This is so fucked up.

"Wasn't this a nice surprise", Georgie chirpily continues. "I thought I would have to make do with Charles who had been quite morose since we came here and a bunch of snobbish people who all think I have too little clothes on", she interrupts herself to laugh heartily, "but this made things much more fun. Let's look for our table."

She grabs Alex by the arm and starts pulling him with her in direction of the tables. He is only too willing to follow. Left behind, I look up on Charles.

"Shall w..."

"You look amazing... I mean stunning... absolutely beautiful" he stutters and a heat wave travels through me.

"It is Anna's dress."

"She is not the one wearing it now. You are the one who is sensational. I mean it. Seriously." Now talking with more confidence in his deep voice and I can see in his eyes that he _does_ mean it. I don't know what to say, just bite my lip and look down. I don't get it. He is here with Georgie, why is he complimenting me like this?

"You don't look so shabby yourself."

That is the understatement of the year. No one in here looks like him. He is taller and more fit than the majority of the men and unlike Alex, his dinner jacket looks like it was tailor made. Now in December his tan has faded, and he wouldn't be mistaken for a Spanish so easily, but his neatly tamed curls and eyes are as dark as ever and he isn't any less handsome.

"Should we join the others?"

We find the table which the four of us share with six others we don't know. Like Georgie feared they seem quite snobbish and I see more than one woman looking disapprovingly on Georgie's dress. Even if I wouldn't have chosen it myself, that seems unnecessarily condescending, but Georgie is totally unaffected. I'm jealous of Georgie over Charles, but I can't help liking her. She does her thing and don't apologise for it and I admire that. I also like the fact that she is very kind to Alex throughout the dinner despite that he scrutinizes the cleft between her breasts too close to be polite. He is obviously flirting with her right in front of my eyes. If I was in love with him I would be humiliated, now it makes me wonder what I ever saw in him. I see Charles frown, but he doesn't comment it. Either he isn't the jealous type, or he thinks Georgie can be trusted to take care of the situation herself. Him and I have talked to our table neighbours, but now we are quietly pushing our food around on our plates. Somehow aware of each other but not talking. Finally, I feel the need to break the silence between us.

"I suppose you feel at home at events like this?"

He looks up from the glass he is nursing. I have noticed he doesn't drink much, maybe the obvious flirting in front of us has destroyed his festive mood too.

"If you mean that in the sense I have been to many, yes I have. It doesn't mean I feel at home though, I try to avoid this type of thing. I wouldn't have gone if Anna hadn't said she wanted senior representation from the company and even then..."

He looks down.

"I wouldn't have gone if I had known you would be here."

His words hurt.

"Why?"

"Because you don't want me here. You have told me so. You want as little to do with me as possible and I'm trying to respect that. Not only that. I find it hard to be around you."

He looks up again, our eyes lock and his seems completely sincere. There is no mocking smile on his lips, he is dead serious. There is a silent beat, two, three and we just stare.

"I _don't_ don't want you here now", I say. Because it is true. Even if he is here with Georgie who my boyfriend now flirts with, he is the one who feels like a safe zone right now. I want him to be here.

"Would you dance with me?"

The question takes me by surprise and maybe that is why I accept, or maybe I do because anything is better than watching your soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend drool down another woman's cleavage, or maybe I just really want to dance with him.

They don't even notice us leaving the table and Charles leads me to the dance floor gently holding my elbow. There is a brief moment of mutual embarrassment when he places one hand on my back for the dance, realises my skin is bare there, moves his hand further down to reach an area covered by the dress, but then ends up on my buttocks and quickly move his hand up again. It seems like he concludes that of two awkward options my bare skin is the better one, so we start dancing with his palm pressed to the nude skin at the small of my back. That is all I can feel, the warmth of his hand there, reminding me of the other time when he held his hands wrapped around my naked waist. He holds me to him and I can't help it, I just mould into him because he feels just as right as he did before; his form, his body heat, his scent.

"I'm sorry about your date", I whisper.

"My date?"

"Georgie, that she seems to hit it off with Alex, or at least he with her, interrupting your date."

"Georgie is my plus one, but she isn't my date. She knows that. I only asked her because I couldn't go with Anna as she was bringing Malcolm and the only other girl I would have liked to bring as my date wouldn't go with me. I didn't want to complicate my emotional life further by asking someone I wasn't interested in and risk she thought it was a date. I'm sorry that Georgie messes things up between you and Alex."

Relief runs through my veins, he is not _with_ Georgie. Anna was right about this much. Who did he want to bring?

"To be honest, it wasn't that great before either", I admit.

Suddenly there is a flash in my face, blinding me. When I look that direction I see a photographer, obviously he took a picture of us dancing.

"This is what I dislike about events like this. They take your photo and tomorrow the tabloids have made up a story about you. Something like I'm dancing with a beautiful woman but really I'm sleeping with her friend."

"If that isn't the truth, what is it then?"

"The truth is I'm dancing with the only one I want to be with and she wants nothing to do with me."

"That is just hypothetical, right?" I ask, and my heart skips a beat to then continue with double pace.

He holds me so close, almost whispers in my ear.

"Why would it be?"

I stop breathing.

"Why are you with him, Molly? I'm not with Georgie but he _is _your boyfriend. Why are you with a guy who would treat you like that?"

I withdraw a bit, so I can look up in his face. I don't care my eyes suddenly are brimming with tears.

"You mean to say you treated me any better? Good guys seem to be really hard to come by, a very rare species."

He is silent for a moment before he speaks.

"It may not seem like it, but I never intended to treat you badly, never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you did", I admit for the second time. First time was on the squash court, in a fit of anger. This is very different, and I want him to know that. "I'm sorry for what I said to you. I didn't really mean all of it. I wish I had listened to you when you wanted to explain."

He pulls me closer, so my cheek leans to his chest again.

"I still want that. Will you for once hear me out? Let me explain?"

"Yes", I sniffle, for two reasons. One is that I would do almost anything to stay like this for as long as I can, one is that I really want to hear what he has to say. I have wanted to know for so long, but my stubbornness and pride stopped me. No more of that.

"Can we go somewhere quieter, where we can speak for real and I'll tell you everything?"

I nod.

"Thank you, come then."

With his hand still on the small of my back we leave the room. I glance at Alex, but his face has the red colour of someone who has had too much to drink and I swear his nose will soon be plugged between Georgie's tits unless she stops him. She looks up though and happily waves goodbye. Surprisingly she doesn't seem the least surprised to see us leave and not objecting either.

We stop by the cloakroom and Charles asks for my tag and helps me put on the soft fake fur coat I have borrowed from Anna to go with the dress. I still can't believe she set this up but I'm beginning to think it might be a good thing

"Where do you want to go?" he asks.

"Take me home to you."


	16. Can you ever forgive me?

**A/N: Thank you for all the amazing reviews, I'm glad to know I wasn't the only one who enjoyed the previous chapter. Tried to be quick with this one not to leave you hanging and it is another long one. Let us see if we can get some of Charles' perspective and if he has an excuse good enough.**

* * *

**Chapter 16: Can you ever forgive me?**

* * *

We step out in the chilly evening and Charles hails a cab. Whenever I attempt the same, it always takes quite a while before any cab driver notices me. Jackie claims it is because I'm so short I'm too close to the ground and they simply don't see me. Charles doesn't suffer from that problem and one immediately stops in front of us with squealing breaks. He opens the door for me, waits for me to get in and closes it behind me. For a moment I'm disappointed thinking he will take his seat in the front beside the driver, but he walks around the car and slips in beside me. As the cab pulls away from the curb, he gives the driver the address and we are off in the night.

I can't believe I'm here with him, alone, his long legs stretched out close to me without touching me. This feels so different and distant from Nerja, when we tanned, carefree and dressed in summer outfits rode his Vespa up the hills to Frigiliana, me leaning my cheek to his back, holding on around his waist, knowing what I wanted to happen when we arrived at his house. I was nervous then, yet more expectant and exhilarated than nervous. Now, I'm all nerves. Then, everything was playful. Now it feels so monumental and I don't know what to expect. Despite that we barely had talked when we rode that motorbike, it felt like I knew him better then. We were already intimate after hours and hours of making out on the beach and his eyes telling me that he wanted me. Now, we sit here in silence even though we speak the same language, not wanting to start the crucial conversation here, with the driver listening and small-talk doesn't feel like an option. There is a safe gap between us in the backseat, but that space seems charged somehow, like it isn't empty but rather a mass of electrified air connecting us. My whole body is tense to the extent that I'm almost shuddering, my mind is spinning. All I can feel is him, all I can think of is him. What does he want with me? What will I want with him after this evening?

A buzzing sound from my mobile, announcing an incoming text message is a welcome break to the tension and I instantly pick the phone out from my posh little clutch. Alex. First one text, almost immediately followed by a second message. He probably wonders where I am and will bombard me until I answer. I'm not too interested in knowing what he has to say but click it open to distract my thoughts from Charles' presence. The second after I snort out a laugh.

"Something funny?" Charles asks curiously.

"See for yourself."

I hand him my iPhone, so he can read the few far from eloquent lines.

_Alex:_ _Where R U?_

_Alex:_ _Can't find U! Feel things no good between us. Georgie + I = better match. Sorry._

Charles' head snaps up and he looks appalled.

"Is he breaking up with you? Like this? What a jerk. I'm so sorry Molly."

He returns the phone. Our fingertips touch and I almost jump.

"You are right about one thing; he _is_ a jerk, but I'm not sorry. In fact, he saves me the trouble of breaking up with him. I was planning to have the talk this weekend. Seems I don't even need to have a bad conscience for making him single if he is so happy with Georgie."

A giggle slips from me and I feel a little lighter than before. A smile spreads across his face.

"Well, I think he got the wrong end of the stick there. Georgie has a boyfriend. She is newly engaged."

I'm astonished he knows that when I didn't.

"What? Why hasn't she said anything?"

"Believe me, she wanted to, but it is a bit complicated."

"How so?"

"She got engaged to my best friend. In Paris."

He watches my face intently as he says it and I can't hide my surprise. I don't even know how to begin to connect the dots.

"_Your_ best friend? But how?"

"Okay, let me take it from the beginning. I knew Georgie before she started working for us. She has been going out with my friend Elvis for a few years. I know Elvis from the Army and he is still in, travelling the world as a special forces soldiers much of the time. A few months back they decided to move to London, set up a home here and start preparing for a life after he leaves the Army. I was thrilled to know they were settling here because I had missed true friends when I lived in London before. When Georgie walked into the office that day, it was a surprise to us both. I'm not sure why we pretended not to know each other at first, but when we talked about it behind closed doors we decided to keep up that pretence. She really wanted the job but said she wouldn't be comfortable working for me if everyone knew we had a close relationship and thought she might be getting favours and I didn't like the thought that people might try to approach her to get information about me. I guess most of all I didn't like the possibility that _you_ might ask her about me, I preferred if you got to know me yourself. It just turned out you didn't want to."

There is a streak of bitterness in his voice and even in the dim, flickering light from the street lights, I can see a shadow passing over his face. This explains so much. Why Georgie is so at ease with him and why he is willing to overlook that she is not the most clever and organized PA, and why he thought she was a safe plus one to bring tonight when he didn't want to complicate things with a date. I was the one to make the wrong asumptions.

"You both seemed so happy when you returned from Paris… I thought something had happened between you there." I feel silly for admitting it, but blurt it out before I can stop myself.

The corners of his mouth seem to tug upwards and I know I have exposed my jealousy. I'm not entirely sure what to make of that he finds that amusing.

"No, nothing of the sort. I knew that she always has wanted to go to Paris and when I was going there for business it was natural that she came along. I felt bad about beating Elvis to taking her there though, to the city of her dreams. He was away on tour but I reached out to him and he managed to pull a few strings to arrange a permission and surprised her by joining us in Paris. He surprised her even more by finally proposing and she said yes. So, of course she was extremely happy when we returned. I was in a good mood too, because my friends got engaged and I got to be part of it and I was happy to return home because I had missed… I had missed being in the office."

"You missed being _in the office_? When you were in Paris? You're weird."

He shrugs his shoulders looking bashful.

"Home is where the heart is."

He said that once before, when he returned home. If he likes London this much, why did he stay away for so long? This man is an enigma. I can't help it though, it is a relief to know for sure there isn't something going on between them. How right Anna was. I giggle again when I think of Alex, sending me that horrible text with the intention of ditching me to notch it up with Georgie.

"I'm just thinking about Alex. He doesn't stand a chance, does he?"

"Nope. Elvis is a very handsome Italian and without a doubt the love of her life. Georgie was just being friendly tonight because she is Georgie and she always wants everyone to have a good time." After a brief pause he adds; "And maybe also because she wanted to give us a chance to talk."

"Does she know about us? About Spain?"

"I may have told both her and Elvis one evening when I got a bit talkative over dinner and drinks", he smirks.

I want to ask him exactly what he told them, how he would describe me, us, to someone else, but in that moment the cab stops in front of Charles' house. Charles pays the driver and we walk up to the door. I notice that he fumbles a bit with the keys and wonder if he is nervous like I am. Alex text and the conversation distracted me for a while but when we step inside and the door closes behind us with a soft thud my nervousness catches up with me again.

We are here, alone, in his house. Again, it hits me how much I like everything about it. It feels so welcoming even when it is empty of other people than us. I even like the smell. Not so strange when I adore the scent of the man who lives here. During the party I unkindly told him that this wonderful house doesn't mirror his character one bit. What if I was wrong and it is the very essence of him, the way it envelops me in safe comfort the minute I enter, making me want to stay.

"I really like your house", I spontaneously say to fill the silence as Charles takes my coat.

"Better than the one in Frigiliana?" he cocks an eyebrow asking.

"Yes. I mean that was nice too, but it felt impersonal somehow. Not so strange I realise now, when I know you only rented it."

I hear the edge in my voice. He bites his lower lip but choses not to comment, not yet.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" he asks instead, like he was hosting a party again, but he probably just wants me to feel relaxed. I sure can need that, but don't know if I'm able to relax by any means in his presence.

"A cup of tea would be nice."

"I was thinking of something stronger, but we can get you a tea", he smiles. "Come."

We head to the kitchen, a room where I haven't been before and another one I love. It is so homely. I don't know why he ever would want to leave this house for a whole year. I can see by the way he expertly moves in here, that it isn't just a room which is here for show. He enjoys being in this kitchen and I bet he is a more experienced cook than I am. I lean against the worktop and watch him, still dressed to the nines in dinner jacket, white shirt and bowtie, put on the kettle and bring out tea, milk and sugar. There is something very sexy about a man so formally dressed moving about in a kitchen, making tea. He prepares the mug without asking how I want it, adding milk and half a lump of sugar. I have to ask.

"You're just assuming I want sugar and milk in it?"

"You don't? I just thought since you had it that way in Spain. I can make another cup if you don't."

"I do, I like it that way. I just didn't think you would remember."

"I remember everything."

He looks at me seriously and my breath hitches. I know _I_ remember every tiny detail. The exact brown shade of his eyes when they reflect the sun and how his dark eyelashes looks with drips of sea water in them. How he had a trail of soft hair on his flat stomach tantalizingly leading down into his black boxer briefs. How his white sheets were clean and crisp, so they rasped slightly against my naked skin. How his arms felt around me when the early morning light seeped in through the window and I felt his arousal nudge against my back yet another time. He seems to be telling me that he remembers _everything _too, not just how I take my tea, because it was important to him too.

"Come", he says again, and this time leads me into the library.

He nods for me to have a seat in the big Chesterfield sofa but goes on to light a fire in the fireplace and pour himself a whisky before he joins me there. He sits down at some distance but close enough to feel a heat that doesn't come from the fire.

"I need this." He smiles apprehensively, and I know now he is nervous like I am. This moment is his chance to explain, the one he has wanted and the only one he will get.

"Now tell me Charles, I'm all ears but it had better be good or I'm out of your door in a minute." I sound more harsh and confident than I feel. Right now I'm desperate to hear him out.

He clears his throat.

"Okay, as I don't know how long you'll listen, I'll start with the most important thing. What I really need you to know."

He takes a deep breath and I can see his Adam's Apple bob.

"I came home for you."

I stare at him, confused.

"What? I _know_ you didn't. I saw your face that first day in the office, before I dropped the tray. You were shocked to see me, which means you didn't come here for me."

"I didn't mean I came to Ethica Trading. If I had known you worked there I wouldn't have taken the job, because it makes things complicated. What I meant is; I returned home from Spain, to the UK for you. Ending up at the same workplace was coincidence, or fate if you like. Anna and other companies had contacted me many times before and I never cared to answer. The reason I did now, was you. I wanted to go home and find you to see if we had a chance."

I try to take in what he says, but it doesn't make sense.

"Why didn't you contact me? Why did you do what you did, lying to me? I don't understand."

"Let me take it from the beginning, way back before we met, then maybe you'll understand me."

His eyes are pleading and I nod for him to go on. I'm dying of curiosity here.

"About one and a half years before I met you, my life was spinning out of hand. Both at work and my private life. I had left the Army and started a new career, a new life, in London. Everyone thought I did brilliantly, and I did on the surface, but I was feeling quite lost."

He takes a gulp of his whisky and meets my eyes. It is so difficult to imagine this man feeling lost when his whole being radiates strength and confidence, but his eyes tells me it really was so.

"I didn't know a whole lot of people when I moved here, had no close friends in London. My best friend, Elvis, the one I told you about was on tour much of the time and when he was home he stayed in Manchester with Georgie. The rest of my closest friends are also in the Army and I suddenly realised that I hadn't only been forced to give up the only career I ever really wanted, I also had lost the natural connection with people who meant a lot to me. We stayed in touch, but I didn't see them often. My family is in Bath, so I didn't see much of them either and I ended up feeling quite lonely. Then I ran into some guys from my old boarding school and even if I never really liked them in the first place, I picked up the contact because, well, company is company. They welcomed me with open arms and soon I found myself drawn into their jet set life. I started dating the sister of one of the guys, a girl named Rebecca. We were a couple for some time and I got tangled up in their socialite life. It was fun for a while, but the further I was pulled into this life, the posh parties, the fancy holidays, appearing on the gossip pages of magazines, the more meaningless it seemed to me. When I scratched on the surface I realised there was nothing beneath. For long I hoped to find some well-hidden depth in Rebecca or my "friends", only to realise there was none. These peoples view the world with them on top and little care for anyone else and I didn't subscribe to that. It wasn't in harmony with my values or what I want for my life."

So far, I have no clue what this has to do with what happened between him and me in Spain, but I continue listening.

"At work I was fortunate enough very successful and everyone I met wanted a piece of that, wanted to be acquainted with me because of my achievements and because I was seen at the right parties with the right people, but I had the nagging feeling no one really cared about _me._ It occurred to me that if I one day lost my job and fortune they would all be gone. As time went by, I also enjoyed my job less and less. The more successful I was, the more insight I got into the company when the leaders trusted me with more information. I didn't like what I saw; a leadership who wanted to maximize the profits at any cost, including dodgy, unethical deals and poor conditions for workers abroad. Textile industries with child labour and unsafe environments, plantations using pesticides that endangered the health of the workers were not an issue, it was an opportunity to earn more money. It was so against my principles and everything I had tried to achieve when I was involved in outreach projects with the Army. The knowledge was eating me away and I knew I couldn't continue working for a company like that."

He puts down the still half-full glass and rubs the muscles at the back of his neck, looking frustrated by the memories.

"At the same time as I came to that conclusion, my private life derailed even more. I tried to talk to Rebecca, tried to talk to some of the guys about how I felt about things, but they just dismissed it. They told me to have another drink, or maybe some drugs or another girl on the side would cheer me up. I refrained from both. I knew that a lot of people moving in those circles used cocaine frequently at parties but always stayed away from it myself."

"Did Rebecca too?"

"I didn't think so, but then one day I had enough at work. I felt I couldn't keep working for this company and had to do something about it. I felt sad and disillusioned about the whole thing and when I quit for the day I went to Rebecca's place, hoping that for once we would have a conversation that mattered. It was only in the late afternoon on a Tuesday, but when she opened her door she had people over for coctails, was already drunk, and had traces of white powder around her nose. She threw herself around my neck and said it was great I was there, so I could join the party. I pushed her away and told her I wasn't in the mood for a party and asked if the white around her nose was what I thought it was. She just pouted and told me not to be a spoil sport. Said I had become so serious and boring lately and it was time to cheer up and stop being so fussy about my job. What did it matter if there was a bit of shady business going on as long as the cash kept coming in. I looked at her, really looked at her and finally realised how ugly she was. Not on the outside, she is beautiful enough, but there was absolutely nothing more to her than a pretty shell with a nasty inside. I told her we were over and then I decided to leave."

"Leave?"

"Leave. I didn't only break up with Rebecca. I broke up with that entire group of people she belonged to you can say. I quit my job and let my house and instead rented the house in Frigiliana. Left without telling anyone but my parents and Elvis where to."

"Why there?"

He shrugs his shoulders.

"Just wanted to get away, live quietly somewhere and figure out what I want with the rest of my life. I spent much time both in Italy and Spain as a child and, as you know, speak the languages fluently. My parents own a house in Italy and I knew if I chose Italy they would expect me to come there, but I wanted my own place. I needed to be alone, so I chose Spain. Funny that I needed to be alone after being lonely, but I craved space and distance to the shallow life somehow. I hadn't planned to stay for so long, hadn't planned anything really. In the beginning I didn't do much at all except enjoying my solitude, later I started helping people with handy work. When I allowed myself to think and feel, I realised I had a lot to deal with. Not only the current situation but things from the past, from my Army days. I had experienced hard things which I just had pushed away, difficult emotions I denied and now I allowed myself to deal with them for the first time. I needed that timeout to heal."

I hold on to my mug, sip my now tepid tea and listen. I'm intrigued to hear Charles' backstory. Understanding he isn't a playboy after all makes me ridiculously happy, but I still don't get how I fit in. When he tells me about his struggles, the loneliness, the disappointment in his "friends", I want to reach out and touch his face, smooth away the lines of worry, but I don't feel we are there. I still don't know why he lied to me and didn't contact me afterwards.

"When I met you, I had stayed in Spain for about a year. I was happy, felt a calmness I hadn't felt for long. After a few months in Spain I realised tourists started mistaking me for Spanish. I thought it could save me from many conversations I wasn't interested in having, so I started to play along. Previously when I met some countrymen, they would ask what I was doing there and then my history would unfold and it was a relief not having to deal with that. Just be "Carlos" from Frigiliana, the guy you could call if you needed some repairing done in your holiday home. I thought it was brilliant and the first and only time that backfired was when I met you."

He leans back in the sofa but looks me straight in the eyes and my breath hitches. Now we are getting close to where it burns.

"Nothing prevented you from telling me the truth if you wanted to."

I try to make my voice hard. He lets out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair.

"I know, it was all so stupid and went out of hand. First time I saw you on the beach, I noticed you before you saw me. I couldn't stop watching you. You were so naturally beautiful, no makeup, no posing to achieve the best selfie or impress anyone, no pretence. You just sat there drinking water from a bottle, completely relaxed and when our eyes met you didn't start acting either. You were just you and I thought you were amazing. I couldn't stop staring at the girl with long, dark hair tousled from the sea water, the cutest little freckles and the greenest eyes I have ever seen."

"Really?" Butterflies are taking off in my stomach.

"Really." He says with certainty and smiles.

"When you and Jackie started talking about me, Christ I could barely stop myself from laughing out loud, but it also made me happy. For the first time in a very long while it actually mattered to me what someone thought of me, that you seemed to like me. And I liked it when you said that you fancied my eyes and my smile more than my body."

He smiles cheekily, and I feel myself blushing. Couldn't he have the decency to pretend he didn't remember _that_.

"Sorry, but I really appreciated that you were checking me out."

"I never would have said if I thought you understood."

"I know, and I thought I would only have that moment to savour, but then I saw you in the bar the next evening and you smiled that intoxicating smile of yours, and I just had to come over. I didn't plan to pretend I was Spanish then. I was about to say 'Hi, I'm Charles' and just pretend I hadn't heard what you said on the beach, but you were so adorably tipsy and started this long speech about what you thought of me. That my skin was golden, and I was gorgeous, and my lips were soft and full and kissable. You really know how to boost a guy's ego."

He can't stop himself from grinning now and I'm so, so embarrassed. Did I really say those things? Probably did because I still think them true.

"Please don't remind me. I'm so embarrassed I think I'm going to die."

"I loved it, but I kind of figured you would feel like that so when you had said all that before I had a chance to stop you, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want you to feel embarrassed, didn't want to scare you off because you might feel foolish. All I wanted was to be with you, so I made the mistake to play along and pretend I was Spanish like I had so many times before. That night it didn't really matter. I don't think any of us wanted to talk anyway and for once I didn't want to think about tomorrow."

He is right, I was perfectly fine making out with him that night on the beach without saying a word. Even now the thought makes my skin prickle.

"No, but then..."

"I know, it was the worst idea ever because the more time I spent with you, the more I wanted to tell you, but the harder it was to do it. The longer I kept silent, the more difficult it became to tell the truth. I came so close both at my terrace and later in bed but then you kissed me and..."

"You're telling me _I_ stopped you?"

I remember the moment in bed when he was about to say something, but I felt tears threatening to burst and interrupted him with an intense kiss to hide it and we ended up making love again. He frowns with disapproval and I get that it is directed towards himself.

"No, I'm telling you I was weak. I wanted you so fucking much that I didn't have the courage to tell you the truth. I was afraid I would make you mad or scare you away and I couldn't stand the thought. I wanted every minute I could get and tried to convince myself it didn't matter when we anyway only had another day together before you went home. I was wrong though. When you told me all those things when you were lying in my arms, how right it felt, how you wouldn't normally do something like this, it felt so dishonest for making you think I didn't understand. I ached to tell you I felt the same way. Everything about you, about us together was just right, but I was afraid you would push me away if I let you know I understood. I had it on the tip of my tongue again when we said goodbye but decided I didn't want risk ruin everything in that last moment. Thought I would write you instead, so I could explain all without interruption. It was a bad decision, one which I'm ashamed of."

My heart beats very hard now, what he is telling me is hard to grasp. The feelings he had for me, does he have them still?

"Why didn't you write me then?"

"I headed back to my house and it was so empty without you. I missed you already before you had even jumped on the plane and I realised I couldn't let you go home without telling you the truth. Then I made another bad decision; to try to make it to the airport on my Vespa, to find you and tell you. I was prepared to do a bloody airport run if that was what it took."

"But you didn't?"

"You know it's an hour's drive to the airport and you can say I pushed the speed limit. I was unlucky enough to be stopped by the traffic police. You don't mess with the guys in Guardia Civil, I know that, but I was absolutely livid because I realised I would miss you, so I didn't act very rational. Told them to piss off and let me drive on, which only resulted in them putting me in their car and driving me to the station, where they locked me up for the night. First I was desperate, but calmed down during the hours I was there, sensibly realised I just had to go back to my original plan to write you. When they released me in the morning, they returned the belongings I had had in my pockets; wallet, phone, sunglasses... but your note was gone. I was so furious they nearly locked me up again, but nothing was to be done. I guess someone had thrown it away thinking it was just some old receipt."

"You expect me to believe this?"

"There is a mug shot I'm not very proud of, and I have the receipt from the fine I had to pay if you want proof."

I actually don't need it, I feel that he is telling the truth.

"I tried to find you, but there are quite a few Molly Dawes in London and I didn't know your address or where you worked. I was devastated. I knew it was stupid, that I should let go when I only had known you a few days. Told myself this was a holiday fling for your part and the sensible thing would be to forget you, but I couldn't. Instead of finding acceptance and calm as time went by, I got increasingly restless up to the point when I realised I couldn't continue like this. I had to go home and try to find you, or I wouldn't find peace. This was when I for the first time started looking at the many job proposals in my inbox and an e-mail from Anna caught my attention. I researched her company and liked what I found. We started e-mailing back and forth and had a few FaceTime calls. Simultaneously I prepared my move back home, left the house in Spain, returned to this one. We set up that final interview face to face and I felt great about it all, but most of all because I thought I would be able to look for you for real once I was established in London again."

I still don't know what to say or think, if I should allow the feeling of happiness that starts seeping through me as his story evolves.

"There was so much to arrange and people to meet those first weeks back home before I started the job, but when I arrived at the office my first day I had already looked up the address of every Molly Dawes living in London and was prepared to go see each and every one, until I found you. When you appeared in Anna's office I was completely shocked. I wasn't prepared to meet you like that, or for you to realise I hadn't been truthful under such circumstances. I saw what you thought before you left so abruptly. I was devastated because I knew what you must think of me and I couldn't wait for you to return, so I finally would be able to explain. But you wouldn't hear me out and I can't blame you. Based on what you knew I was truly despicable, and you had moved on with Alex."

"I was so angry and hurt."

"I know, and it's all my fault. When you stood before me that day, so furious and beautiful, taking no shit even if I was your boss, I fancied you even more than before, but you made it clear that you wanted no explanation, no emotions, just a professional relationship and I had no right to push it."

"So you decided to give up?" I say with a hint of despise in my voice, thinking if I wasn't worth fighting at the first little resistance.

"On the contrary. I decided to stay and show you I'm a decent guy and hope that one day you might listen to me. That you might understand that even if I was economical with the truth, it was down to a bad decision made because I really wanted to be with you. It spiralled out of control and the truth became harder and harder to tell and then I lost you for a while thanks to Guardia Civil. My feelings for you in Spain were true Molly. I fell for you the moment I saw you and fell harder the more time I spent with you. The thing is, now that I know other sides of you, what you're like in real life, not just on holiday, I like you even more. I already knew you're beautiful in a sun dress, that you are funny and passionate and natural, now I know you're smart, ambitious and courageous too. Not to mention that you look amazing in pencil skirt."

He suddenly leans forward and take my hands.

"I wanted you then, but I'm in love with you now. Maybe we can't work in the same place after I have told you this, but I can't keep quiet anymore."

His expression is tormented but he doesn't drop his gaze for a second, steadily he meets mine and holds on to my clammy hands. I gasp at his unexpected touch and confession.

"Now, you know everything and no matter what I'm so relieved that you finally allowed me to tell you. Thank you for listening.

Can you ever forgive me?"

* * *

**A/N: Yes, will she? **

**Unfortunately it may take few days before I have time to write next chapter. In the meantime, if you are new to my stories, you find them all both on this site and ****as e-books ****on my own Our Girl fanfiction blog: www misspionyff wordpress com, just replace the spaces with . **


	17. If I say I'm yours will you believe me?

**Chapter 17: If I say I'm yours, will you believe me?**

* * *

Charles James watched the young woman in front of him. He was older than her, her superior in position, wealth and, many would argue, background. Yet she had the power to strip him of all of that and leave him weak and vulnerable, as if she were his kryptonite. Uninvited, she had inhabited his mind and body for so many months now. First in the flesh those amazing days in Spain, then as an unattainable dream, then again very much real but totally distant. He had told her the truth about _them_ and now he tensely awaited her reaction, almost feeling like his life, or at least one alternative version thereof, depended on it. He had finally given her an honest account of _everything _except the exact depth of his feelings for her, because they were even deeper than he let on and he held back in fear of being rejected and come out of this more bruised than he already was. She may think he had played her, but all this time the involuntary cat and mouse game had tormented him more than he cared to admit.

For his part the attraction to Molly had been instant and strong in a way he never experienced before. When his eyes fell on her on the beach that day, it was like a punch in his _solar plexus_, not leaving him in pain but in a pleasant dazed and breathless state.

The first he saw of her were her legs, when she gracefully stretched them after sleeping on her sunbed and then swung herself to sitting position and grabbed a water bottle. She was not tall, but her legs were a good part of her length, slender, proportional, toned and tanned, like a diminutive version of perfect super model legs. Unable to look away, his gaze slid up her softly rounded hips, flat belly and with guilty pleasure lingered briefly on her breasts before moving on to the part of her he now was most curious about, her face. This was when he became completely mesmerised. Her heart shaped face was stripped of makeup and the cutest little freckles were dispersed on her nose and cheeks. Her large, expressive eyes were of an unusual clear green colour reminding him of the old waterfilled limestone quarry where he sometimes swam as a child, and the lips curved and soft as if made for smiling and kissing. Her hair was dark like his own, but with strands bleached by the sun like it had left a few rays behind, and so long that it would be possible to wrap it around his fist to hold her firmly to him in a searing kiss.

There he stopped himself with an amused laugh, realising he was ogling a unknown girl in bikini and fantasizing about making out with her short of a minute after first setting eyes on her. He told himself he really must be deprived of female company because he was usually never this physically impulsive. Then, her gaze shifted when he wasn't prepared for it and their eyes locked. It was like his insides stilled, his heartbeats and his breathing paused, and everything went quiet inside him for seconds, before his synapses instead connected with multiplied speed and left his blood boiling. His salvation from being exposed by his own heated cheeks was that she broke eye contact.

Even if meeting her gaze was terribly unsettling, he could not keep from searching it again. Their eyes met frequently both that first day and the next, like there was some magnetic force pulling them both in, but she wasn't straight out flirting with him. She seemed friendly but coy, not like one of those girls constantly seeking affirmation and greedily lapping up admiration wherever they went. Thanks to the fact that she mistook him for a non-English speaking Spanish he knew she found him attractive and it made him flattered and ridiculously happy, but regretfully she didn't seem to have the slightest intention to do anything about it. He had become so used to his solitary life that the thought of approaching her himself felt like a big leap to take and he just indulged in watching her every now and then, experiencing the same tazing feeling whenever their eyes locked. He didn't expect more to come out of it, didn't dare to hope.

When he saw her with her friend in the restaurant next evening, bikini changed for a white eyelet dress enhancing her tan and the long hair silky smooth instead of roughened by salt water, he realised that looking at her wasn't anywhere near enough. He wanted to talk to her and craved touching her if only to let his fingers run up her arms once to know what her smooth looking skin felt like. He was overwhelmed by his own reaction. Not only because he didn't expect it here and now, but also because he never had desired any woman like this, not from a distance, not up close. He told himself he was pathetic, but then, as she passed his table leaving the restaurant, she flashed him the most amazing smile and his resolve to ignore his emotions crumbled. Without thinking, because if he had he surely would have stopped himself, he quickly paid his bill and almost stumbled out on the street, searching for her and her friends, eager not to lose them. To his relief, he saw them at some distance on the street and followed them to a bar. There he hesitated and waited outside for some time, suddenly aware he was behaving like a stalker, but when her friends came out without her he decided to go inside after all. She stood by herself, slurping a drink through a straw and looked like she enjoyed it. He could not keep from smiling at the sight and then she looked up, met his gaze and returned the smile. He didn't need more invitation and he was by her side in a wink, brushing aside the feeling he was acting like a predator.

What happened next, he had not foreseen, that she adorably tipsy would ramble on about his excellent qualities and hotness and things she would like to do to him. Again, he was flattered, but also deeply embarrassed and he realised she likely would be even more so if he told her he had understood it all perfectly. He didn't want to embarrass her, he wanted her to be comfortable in his company and right now she was. It was then he made the fatal mistake to pretend to be Carlos, a decision that would haunt him for months to come. He didn't know where from he got the courage to silently ask her to go for a walk, out of the need to be with her somewhere more private, but to his surprise and joy she accepted. Her small hand somehow ended up in his and it felt right and electrifying to hold it.

Despite that he had stood on Balcón de Europa numerous times, the beauty of the panorama view always made him catch his breath. Not this evening. He didn't care shit about the soft purple evening light over the water stretching endlessly until it merged with the sky. All he cared about was her green glittering eyes and those smiling lips which he had an increasing desire to trap with his. He felt his gaze drawn to her tantalising mouth and knew he had to taste her, had to know if those lips were as soft as they promised and if she would part them for him and let him feel her tongue. He wasn't drunk, so he could not blame that, but never had his instincts been so strong and sharply focused on one thing; the primal need to achieve kissing her. When he tentatively placed his palms on her hips, she did not resist. She only giggled light-heartedly and stepped into him when he pulled her gently towards him. He paused briefly, with his lips lingering just above hers to give her the chance to back out if she wanted to, but she pushed herself up, met him and he was lost.

Her lips were warm and tasted sweet with a hint of alcohol sharpness and mint from the drink she had before. At the first soft touch he knew he wanted to seduce her or be seduced by her. Which didn't really matter as long as the ending was the same, he just knew he needed more, much more than a kiss. The sensible, controlled Charles James found himself lost in a woman like never before and he didn't want it to end, had no wish what so ever to take back control and be in charge of his emotions. He, who many times had told his men not to get emotionally involved and been a stickler to that rule on duty and sometimes off, now forgot those words even existed.

That night on the beach was his up to then most sensual and exhilarating experience despite that they stayed fully clothed throughout, or maybe because of that. The presence of strangers nearby in the darkness preventing them from going all the way, both drove him crazy with unfulfilled need and made him feel grateful because it meant they did not rush things, instead savoured the deep kisses and the touches of each other's straying hands. Not that he was in a habit of taking a girl he had not dated or barely shared a conversation with to bed, but in this case he wasn't sure where they would have ended up if the surroundings had been more private when the frantic kisses left them wanting more. There was no way hiding from her how she turned him on, but it clearly didn't scare her off. Instead he felt her passionately pushing herself up from the sand to meet him, excite him even more until he barely knew how to control himself even in the presence of other people. Of course, he did but he was unsure if his actions this night could be claimed to be entirely gentlemanlike. Caring about her white dress not getting smudged by the sand was in line with his usual gentleman demeanour, letting his hands move up under the hem of her skirt and softly touching the lining of her lingerie in semi-public hardly so. When the first streaks of pink light became visible on the horizon, announcing morning was close, she was the one to regain composure and he reluctantly accompanied her home, knowing it was the right thing to do. When she agreed to meet him later for a day on the beach his heart sang with joy. Their time was not up even if this first night was.

That day disappeared in a sundazed, fun, sexy blur. How he loved kissing her when her lips were cool and tasted of salt water, loved the feeling of her palms pressed to his chest or touching his stomach close to the lining of his bathing trunks. Again, she drove him mad, but he enjoyed every breath-taking second as well as the time when they peacefully fell asleep entwined in the shadow under their parasol. He felt like he was seventeen again; carefree, happy, spontaneous and with spiking hormones. The experience with Rebecca and her group of friends had gotten under his skin and made him feel cynical, soiled and unwilling to let others in since. Molly's intoxicating giggles when he kissed her or tickled her made him light at heart. Her splashing water on him like a joyful child, only to minutes later secretly wrap her legs around his waist in a _very_ mature manner under the water surface, coil her arms around his neck and teasingly nibble his bottom lip until he gave her a full, deep kiss, washed away all his need for distance and made him feel like a new man. Even if he wanted her badly, this felt so special he would have waited for weeks to take her to bed, had she wanted to wait, but it turned out they didn't have much time.

When she revealed she was to leave next day, he felt crushed but tried not to show it because he knew it was a foolish reaction when you only just have met someone. He tried to keep his cool on the outside but all he could think was that he would make those twenty-four hours count and he was relieved when she accepted his proposal of a dinner date. He waited for her outside her front door already fifteen minutes before the agreed time, restless, nervous but most of all looking forward to seeing her again, missing her company already after an hour apart. When her door opened right on time he almost jumped, then was floored by her beauty. She was beautiful all the time, but it was obvious that she had made an extra effort for this evening, _for_ _him_ and that realisation made him giddy with expectation. He wanted to take her for a proper date, to his favourite restaurant and invite her to a nice dinner, but once they were there he found it difficult to focus on anything but her. The food and wine did not taste anything, because all he wanted to taste was her. He got increasingly frustrated with himself for feeling like a horny teenager, but he could not help himself. It came to a breaking point when he could not even fully focus on what she said, because her moving lips were so alluring, and he made himself stand up to go inside and write her another note, asking if she wanted to spend the night at his place. He realised it was a risky game, she might withdraw and say she never would come with a stranger like this, but he felt he had to take the chance and could hardly believe his luck when she agreed.

During the walk to his Vespa, all the way up the mountainside on the motorbike when she held on around his waist and even when they had wine on his terrace, he was afraid she would change her mind and ask him to take her home. He knew he ought to tell her the truth, tell her he was the very ordinary Brit bloke Charles and not some exciting Latino guy named Carlos, but the words somehow seemed unwilling to take off from his lips and then she moved in and with a fiery kiss showed him that she wanted the exact same things he wanted and for a while no words were uttered at all.

He was not sure if any action in his life had felt so momentous combined with playful before, so sexually charged yet fun. Moments of breathless silence only interrupted by moans were mixed with giggles and teasing. He had never felt so at home yet so out of his depth as when they explored each other. The sole purpose of his existence this night was to be as close to her as possible and make her confirm her delight through panting noises and clenching around him in extasy and he was amazed at how he managed to bring that out from her again and again, like their bodies were in exact tune with what his mind wished for. For a while he thought that maybe it was only for him the whole experience was mind-blowing, that it always was like this for her because she was some fantastic sex goddess, but when she spoke lying in his arms he understood this was as new and special to her as it was for him. It wasn't him doing this to her, or her doing this to him, it was them combined together that was so right. He wanted to tell her that, once again he was on the verge of doing so but yet again he let himself be silenced with a kiss. In hindsight he knew he hadn't tried hard enough because he was afraid that this loveliness would blow up in his face if he told her and he couldn't bear the thought. Instead they made love all through the night, interrupted only by short periods of sleep and cherished every minute together until it was time to say goodbye.

It wasn't easy, it was really fucking hard. He had thought he was toughened by his years in the Army. That he knew how to say goodbye to men, friends, he had depended on and come close to during a tour without too much sentimentality, but this was different. He had always been amused when Elvis claimed that saying goodbye to Georgie made him feel like his heart was being ripped out and attributed it to his dramatic Italian heritage, but when he said goodbye to Molly outside her building and drove back to his own empty house, he felt like that too. All he wanted was to return to her to squeeze out a few more minutes in her presence. For every minute the feeling grew stronger, that he cowardly had hidden behind the language barrier because he feared what this had the potential to be and that that had been a giant mistake. He spent half an hour trying to convince himself that he was over-reacting, pacing back and forth in his living room, then gave in to the realisation that he could not let her leave like this. Could not risk that when he sent an e-mail to explain, she would put it in the trash folder without reading it because she already had left her holiday fling behind. This was when he with uncharacteristic spontaneity threw himself on the Vespa to drive to the airport to catch her and would have made it if it hadn't been for the bloody Guardia Civil.

He was so close to taking a swing at the grim officers who halted him for speeding but luckily he had the self-control not to, because if he had punched them he would likely still be in a Spanish jail. Lashing out verbally using the worst Spanish curses he knew, was enough to lock him up overnight. Not even in a war zone had he ever felt so desperate and powerless as when the door closed and locked behind him and he was trapped unable to reach her in time, a feeling which unfortunately was trumped next morning when he realised they had binned Molly's note with contact details. If it had changed anything, he would have gone berserk at the police station, but he knew it would make no difference at all except putting him behind bars again. Boiling with fury and despair he returned home. Over the next weeks he gradually cooled down, for a while thought he would move on, then realised that would not happen. The fury gave way for calm determination but his feelings for her remained unchanged. He had to return home to find her, to get the answer to the question 'what if?' He had no reason to hide in Spain anymore, he had a goal and he was up for the challenge, so he set the ball in motion.

Once he decided to return home, he acted promptly and things had worked out so well. All the practicalities had been smoothly arranged and he had a really good feeling about his new job and Anna Steele. He was ready to come home, settle and then begin the chase for the girl he thought may turn out to be the woman of his dreams if they got a chance to know each other beyond holiday sparkles. He was a man used to have strategies for all sorts of dire scenarios, yet he was totally unprepared for her appearing right in front of him, first day at the job.

He had imagined many times what it would be like meeting Molly again, everything from a proper conversation in English when it would be apparent they had loads in common, to steaming hot sex after one look at each other. Not once had he pictured in his mind that she would come carrying a tray with coffee and biscuits, looking like the hottest woman to ever set foot in an office, drop that tray and give him one of those staggering looks that would kill if looks could kill. He got it of course, understood what she must think finding him here with another name and fluent in English. What kind of man would ever lie to a woman like he had if he had good intentions? _He_, but there was no way she could know or believe that.

She had disappeared home that day and only when Anna had said she wouldn't return until next week because of a flu he very much doubted was real, had he been able to partly re-focus on learning his new job. Half of him remained on autopilot though, with mind focused on the absent Molly. Wondering what she did now, what she felt and his determination to set everything straight when she returned grew. He could hardly wait.

Even if he had known she would be there the next Monday, the sight of her made his knees turn weak. She was so ridiculously hot, dressed in black and with stilettos so high and sharp they could easily have been used to stab someone. She probably would have liked to stab him right in the heart judging by the dark looks she gave him, but he was naïve to think he could put that right if he had a chance to talk to her. When they finally got their moment alone, to discuss his requirements for a PA, she swiftly suffocated his hope when she refused listening to him. She was so furious that sparks were flying and maybe he would have been more insistent if she had not left him feeling powerless with want. He knew it was inappropriate here, especially as she told him to go to hell and with the background of recent sexual harassment and zero tolerance for such shit at the workplace. Something he very much subscribed to but felt like the unfair victim of now. All he wanted was to explain, to let her know how it really was, how he had ended up here because of none other than her, but she refused to hear him out and he had to accept it. He would not risk his position for two reasons; he wanted this job and more importantly he wanted to stay close to her. He was ashamed to admit to himself that her fury and resistance left him turned on and more resolved than ever to win her over, because if she was attractive before that was enhanced now when she wasn't only a charming girl but a _femme fatale_. He was extremely frustrated but also very determined not to lose this fight.

He went home that evening, poured himself a whisky and deliberated his battle plan. He would not give up, no fucking way. He would stick around, and he would show her who he was, get to know her and let her get to know him until one day she would let him explain and he would win her back, boyfriend or no boyfriend. Maybe the boyfriend she had thrown in his face didn't even exist and _if_ he did they could not possibly have the same chemistry as he and Molly did. He knew that was an arrogant presumption, but he felt so convinced that what they had shared was something unusual and precious and not easily replaced.

It soon became clear that she would give him a very, very hard time and maybe he would have thrown in the towel if Georgie had not been there to cheer him on. The hard part wasn't only that she shunned him like he had the plague and at every given opportunity let him know how she despised him. The hardest part was how it affected him. Her words and her low opinion of him hurt him more than he thought possible and combined with the unchanged strong desire and the growing affection he felt for her despite her attitude towards him it drained him. He could see how brilliant she was at her job and how great she was with everyone else and all he wished was that she sometimes would be like that to him too, but she was reluctant to even give him a hand when he had a real crisis in the copy room. Each day at the office was like torture which he only endured because he hoped things would get better eventually.

Georgie was the one who gave him the idea to throw a party to give him a chance to meet Molly outside the office even if she would never agree to meet just the two of them. It was a great idea to get to know all his new colleagues, but it wouldn't have been the first to come to his mind. Expectantly he proceeded to arrange it all and things were set up for a pleasant evening, but he simply hadn't imagined she would bring the boyfriend. For one thing he wasn't sure if he existed or if it was a fabrication she had thrown in his face when she was upset, but of course he shouldn't have doubted that a girl like her had a boyfriend and probably several other guys willingly waiting in line to take his place. Secondly, _if_ he existed Charles never expected she would bring him because it obviously would be awkward for them to be in the same room, but she apparently had no such qualms. He felt his good mood and happy expectations fly out the window when she introduced the good-looking blonde guy named Alex. He had felt like such an idiot for not foreseeing this and the jealousy that welled up inside him had caught him off guard and he barely managed to remain polite. That feeling was not diminished when he saw her in her burgundy dress and realised that all he wanted to do was to undress her with the fastest method possible. There were few, if any, occasions in life when he had felt like such a pathetic looser. He did his best to pull himself together, be a good host and try to enjoy himself and entertain his guests, but at every point during the evening he was aware of _her_. Aware of her holding hands with Alex, aware of her observing his home and hoping she liked it, aware of her laughing and talking to others, aware of her being alone when that idiot of a male specimen strolled around like a peacock telling others how important he was whilst getting more drunk by the minute. This was of course why he noticed that she slipped away from the others and into the library, where he followed her hoping for a minute alone.

There was a moment when he thought they connected, when she said he was nothing like a cactus after all. Ironically, she had found the bottle of olive oil he had brought home to her when he still imagined their reunion to be so much easier than it turned out to be. He had gone back to the restaurant Esquina Paulina and asked about the oil that she liked so much with tomatoes, just to bring her a little something. Now it was collecting dust in his shelf because he would not use it, he would keep it hoping she would forgive him. He wondered if this maybe was the moment to tell her but then Alex appeared, with the opposite of perfect timing and embarrassingly enough accused them of having an affair which almost was funny as Molly wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. He was the person least likely she would consider having an affair with.

Then the unlikely thing happened that turned the awful evening around, she fainted in his arms.

He didn't feel any good about it in that instance of course even it meant that he unexpectedly got to hold her. He was out of himself with concern because when he caught her limp, feather light figure in his arms he felt that she was burning up. He nearly forgot about his other guest because he became so focused on taking care of her, put her to bed, get a doctor, ensure she would be fine. It was only when Anna reminded him that he at least had to say goodbye to them out of courtesy that he tore away from her side. Everyone had had a great evening and were ready to call it a night, especially when Molly was ill, except the most unwelcome guest. Charles found her supposedly devoted boyfriend rat-arsed by the bar, slurring and barely able to stay on his feet, totally upset not over Molly but over the end of the party. Charles was profoundly jealous of Alex but his lack of concern for Molly provoked him more. He probably would have punched him hard in the face if Malcolm had not been there to hold him back and made him see that throwing Alex out was a better option, which would make him come out of this as the better man instead of one that had taken a swing at the sickling's boyfriend. What _did_ she see in that guy who didn't seem to care for her at all? It was a mystery to Charles, but he didn't waste more energy on him once he was out the door, instead returned to Molly. He was relieved when the doctor said there was no reason for major concern, but they should look out for her. So he did. Anna may have thought it was a sacrifice, to stay up and take care of Molly all weekend, but he relished every moment. He was relieved when her temperature sank, her breathing came easier and she finally seemed to sleep without tossing and turning feverishly. Then he relaxed in his armchair, just watched her and felt oddly harmonious. He wished he had been allowed to cuddle up beside her and hold her but was content keeping her safe also from a few inches distance. He loved to see her face turn peaceful and watch her dark eyelashes flutter against her still flushed cheeks. He felt so protective towards this tiny woman lying tucked in under the duvet in his big spare bed and realised how far beyond carnal desire his feelings for her went. He wanted to make sure she was safe, wanted to be the one to make her happy. He wanted her to be his, not out of possessiveness but because now that he knew she existed there seemed to be an empty space in need of filling without her in his life. He finally dozed off more determined than ever to make her see he wasn't some douche bag that had stood her up.

When she woke up she seemed a bit confused, but not upset about being in his home. It was all slightly awkward but still enjoyable because they were together and for once she was neither furious nor coldly passive-aggressive towards him. He often got to see her warmer, humorous side in the office but so far it had never been directed towards him, only to everyone else. Now she was calm and soft, like the grudge she held towards him had vanished along with the fever or maybe she simply didn't have the strength to hold it up. He whistled when he made her breakfast and almost unconsciously prepared her tea the way she had taken it in Spain. When he managed to convince her to stay the day and watch a movie, his body almost buzzed with joy and when he carried her downstairs to the TV room he didn't want to let go, though he silently scolded himself for feeling a misplaced surge of desire when touching the skin on her bare legs carrying her and feeling her breath fan against his neck. There was an easy banter between them as they picked the movie and when he returned with popcorn and they watched in silence, he could imagine what it would be like to be a to be an old steady couple with her and he liked that picture almost as much as the one of being passionate, newfound lovers. He knew he wanted _everything_ with her, both the spark and the comfort. When she fell asleep in his lap, he forgot all about his e-mails and just stroke her hair until he almost fell asleep himself, exhausted after the long wake. He had not been this content since their brief time together in Spain and he wondered how his happiness could be so tied to one person.

He had been so close to blurting out the whole story to her when she was trapped in his bed, but felt it wasn't the way he wanted to do it. It wouldn't be fair; she was weak, and he didn't want to force her to listen. He wanted her to _want to_ listen because she cared to know the truth. Maybe she didn't as long as she had a boyfriend, but he hoped she would.

Despite that he remained quiet, so his stupid mistake and misfortune remained untold, he had sensed that her stay at his house was a turning point in their relationship. Even if she still was with Alex, it felt like she gradually defrosted towards him. She didn't avoid him as fervently as before, she bestowed him a precious smile every now and then and even allowed herself to speak to him friendly and jokingly like she did to other colleagues, keeping him spellbound with her magnetism and charm. In this case it was a good thing to no longer be singled out because he ceased to feel like pariah in her world. He had long ago figured out that she must be helping Georgie doing quite a few things for him, based on the knowledge that Georgie was a lovely but crappy organiser, but now Molly didn't always bother to hide it, as if she could admit to doing something nice for him. These small things made him incredibly happy and he cherished the moments when it felt like they had a connection, an understanding between them. He was feeling apprehensively positive and hoped this meant they were slowly moving towards a destination where she might hear him out, maybe forgive him, let him come closer and, in his dream scenario, dump Alex for him.

Then came another turning point, unfortunately in the opposite direction and he didn't even understand it at first. He helped Elvis arranging the lovely surprise in Paris and returned home feeling equally happy about his friends' thriving relationship and the prospect of seeing Molly again after a week away. Even if she wasn't his to miss he had missed her immensely and just seeing her sitting by her desk when he exited from the lift that first morning home, sent a jolt of happiness through him. She was still there, still as pretty and witty, still the same lovely Molly as when he left. Except she wasn't. He noticed soon enough that she distanced herself again. He had no idea what caused the change, but it hurt. Hurt more now than in the beginning because he had allowed himself to hope. Now every day being close to her but still so distant made him ache with longing. He wanted to know her better, not drift further apart. It was like she had opened her door ajar, only to slam it in his face when he stepped closer and he didn't know why. He tried to be friendly without overstepping any boundaries but felt that she was rejecting him again and again.

Then two unexpected and in different ways tough things happened. First Anna told him the awful news that she had cancer. Despite that they only had known each other for a short time, he was truly fond of her in addition to respecting her as a great leader and fierce business woman, so this worried him and saddened him immensely. Already before she asked it of him, he realised he was the one who would have to step up to the plate and keep the company afloat when she was gone, and he knew he would do anything to reciprocate the trust she put in him. He felt a flutter of passing fear that it would be even harder for him to make up with Molly when he was the acting highest-ranking boss of the company, as well as _her _closest boss, but pushed it aside. He had to fulfil his duties and be there for Anna _and_ he had to win Molly over anyway, even if it for some reason felt like they had taken a step backwards lately.

Then the second bad thing happened, catching him off guard, like pulling away a rug from under his feet. It started innocent enough with a squash session with the leadership team but avalanched to an emotional nuclear reaction. When he learned he would play squash with Molly as his partner, he was genuinely happy. He saw it as an opportunity to have some fun together, spend time alone without thinking about business almost like a date even if it strictly speaking was nothing like a date. Cheerfully he entered the court, but soon became painfully aware of that Molly didn't appreciate his company. She played with a fury that took him by surprise and he realised with increasing frustration this was anything but playful fun. When she suddenly played the ball, so it on purpose hit him hard in the chest he had enough. His bottled up feelings, love, longing and desperation boiled over and afterwards he was ashamed to think of how hard he had grabbed her. He didn't understand how she still could be so furious with him when he had tried to make amends in his every action even if she wouldn't let him do it in words. Over that lunch game, all his hope of ever being anything to each other more than barely polite, icy colleagues evaporated. He realised that she hated him, and never would never get past that. It was so childish and enfuriating and completely impossible to do anything about, it seemed. He hated the way it affected him; provoked him and completely knocked him out of balance.

Fuming he strode away from the court, but already in the shower he felt a choking sadness instead. As the warm water poured over him he knew she would never be his. He had fucked it up and she wouldn't forgive him, he simply had to come to terms with that and move on. He knew he wouldn't be able to do that with her in his space, he would never stop yearning for her like this. Most of all he would have liked to resign on the spot and escape somewhere far away, where he didn't have to see her every day and be reminded of what he missed, but he couldn't do that because of Anna. For her sake, he had to clench his teeth and endure until she returned, after that he vowed that he would stop being a masochist and get away. For now though, he had no choice but to tell Molly off to make sure their relationship turned into a professional one again. He could not handle her mood swings at work, it would make him too distracted to simultaneously feel he wanted to shake her and kiss her when he knew she would accept neither. He was in love, but it was unreciprocated, so he had no choice but to harden himself and move on. Still it was himself he ended up loathing that afternoon in the office, when she watched him with big glazed eyes and he felt like the bad guy even if he knew his stern words to her were fair and justified. All he wanted to do was to kneel before her, wrap his arms around her waist and tell her not to listen to that stern jerk (him) scolding her because she was wonderful, and could he please kiss her held back tears away? He didn't know how it was possible to simultaneously feel so angry at, protective of and desperately in love with one and the same person.

He thought he was doing quite well keeping up his stern façade after that, but then she broke through his defences. Her shy smile and her way of saying 'I'm sorry', not to mention the body contact when they collided in the door opening the day Anna broke her sad news to the entire office were enough to leave him bewildered for the rest of that week. He barely saw her because he was so wrapped up in business, let alone had a chance to test the waters or ask her straight out if that meant a truce, but it spun around in his head every night when he went to bed, every morning when he woke up. He knew he should forget her because she just kept complicating his life, but he couldn't. When Friday finally arrived, he was physically and emotionally exhausted and would have liked to crash on the couch with a beer, crisps and a movie, but Anna had made him promise to attend that bloody benefit, so he faithfully went.

He wasn't sure what Anna was playing at, but running into Molly there was a surprise and for the umpteenth time she floored him with the way she looked. This time she had changed her natural looks for Hollywood flair in a dress that looked like fluid gold on her tantalising body and he was too dazzled to pretend she didn't affect him. He had never seen anyone so stunning.

He thought it would be a horrible evening when he would pine for her whilst she fondled with Alex and he was beginning to wonder if he would manage to go through with it even for Anna's sake, but then he noticed the difference in her. Just like earlier in the week at the office, her anger seemed to have diminished. Maybe Anna's illness made other things seem insignificant or maybe there was another reason, but she was softer, almost friendly again, even admitted she didn't mind him being there and out of nowhere he mustered the courage to ask her to dance and she accepted. Perhaps she only wanted to escape her idiot boyfriend flirting with Georgie, but he didn't question her motives, only enjoyed having her in his arms.

Afterwards, he wasn't even sure how the conversation had floated but amazingly it resulted in them taking a cab to his house together and finally (finally!) she had let him explain. The words were out there, she knew it all, every card lay open on the table. She knew why he had pretended to be someone he wasn't and why he hadn't called her, but also why he had returned home and that he was in love with her. He could hardly believe that he actually had told her that last bit, but he felt that it was all or nothing. Now it all came down to if she believed him or if she still thought him to be a lying bastard never to be trusted. Worst of all would be if she _did_ believe him but still didn't care. He knew that after this evening, after declaring his love to her, he would have to go away if it didn't mean anything to her because he simply couldn't stand being around her anymore and not be hers.

"Can you ever forgive me?" He was grateful that his voice did not break of nervousness.

She took her time before she answered.

"On one condition… that you show me the mugshot from the Spanish Police."

"Because otherwise you won't believe me?"

Then he caught the mischievous glimpse in her green eyes and saw the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

"Oh, I believe you, but might I need a copy to print in the office newsletter so they all get to know what their boss really is like."

He let go of the breath he did not know he was holding, and a warm feeling started bubbling in the pit of is stomach and spread like fizz to his extremities.

"And what exactly is their boss like? A criminal?" he smiled.

"Well, obviously, as he had a mugshot taken and was put behind bars… but also someone who is willing to speed on a Vespa and do an airport run to tell a girl he is in love with her but ended up in jail instead. Did you _really_ do that?"

"Yup." Now he knew his grin was ridiculously wide and her smile was the most charming huge smile he ever had seen.

"Why in the world didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Christ Molly cut me some slack. You can't say I wasn't trying…"

When she interrupted him by bursting into fits of laughter he knew she was just winding him up. Once again, he found it hard to know if he wanted to shake her or kiss her. No wait, it wasn't hard at all to know _exactly_ what he wanted, and without further hesitation he let his lips come crashing to her smiling ones.

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**A/N: Sorry for a chapter where the plot actually wasn't moving forward much, but I have been longing to give Charles' perspective and let you know how madly in love he is with Molly. Probably more than her up to this point because she has not allowed herself to feel what she wants to feel because she thinks he is a bad guy who only will hurt her. Maybe that will change now. This was a veeeery long chapter and I hope you enjoyed rather than getting bored even if it was repeating a few things from a different angle. **


	18. Couch potatoes

**A/N: Life is hectic (new job and house move coming up) and I'm too tired to be super productive, but here comes a chapter of sweet and a bit hot fluff. As always, much appreciated if you let me know what you think.**

**xx**

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**Chapter 18: Couch potatoes**

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The room is dimly lit so when I wake up, I'm first not sure where I am. Slowly I become aware of soft, slow breaths, steady heartbeats under my ear, the warmth coming from _him _and suddenly I'm very conscious of the broad chest underneath me. It is the second time I wake up in this house, but this time not in the spare bed. I have been sleeping sprawled over Charles. At this realisation and remembering what happened before we both fell asleep a feeling of intense happiness cascades through me.

* * *

For so long I was convinced that there couldn't be a version of our story where he would come out as a good guy, but unbelievably there is. He may be a prannet for pretending to be Spanish for days, but he did it because he wanted to be with me, not with ill intent. He couldn't stop thinking of me, like I couldn't stop thinking of him and he actually decided to move back to the UK for me. This part I find hard to fully grasp. I can scarce believe this amazing man made that decision for _me_. With exception for the time I hit him with the squash ball and he went through the roof, he is always so calm, composed and confident. Even now when he admitted to being in love with me he seemed cool as a cucumber. For a moment it made me wonder if he _really_ is in love even if he claimed to be, at least not in the same way I feel around him. _I_ feel like I'm in a safe place where I really want to be but simultaneously nervous, buzzing, exhilarated, afraid and feverish, all at the same time. The last thing I feel is calm.

Then he kissed me.

First, I was so surprised that I stiffened by reflex and he withdrew, looking appalled.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry if I misread you, I just got carried away. I..."

It was then I saw what it meant to him. For a second all his feelings were painted on his face; love and fear of rejection, his brown eyes wide with longing and tentative hope. I realised then that he may sound like he is cool with all this, but underneath the surface he has struggled like I have and telling me the things he just did was taking a leap of faith. He really _is_ in love with me.

I cupped his cheeks with my palms, my fingers fanning out over his skin, held him gently but steady, looked him in the eyes and saw his expression shift again. I pulled him down to me.

"No need to say sorry. I want this too", I whispered against his lips, then kissed him back.

It felt so incredibly good.

Just a brief touch of his lips made me realise Alex never stood a chance even before he turned out to be a jackass, because he never made me feel like this. Not for one single second.

Kissing Charles is like all good things combined. Like the tastiest piece in a high-quality box of chocolates, the first and last day of summer, hugging my favourite teddy bear when I was a kid, giddy expectations when entering a funfair, the burning heat inside when downing a flaming sambuca.

We kissed for long. _Very_ long. We talked some and then kissed some more. It was completely surreal after these months of emotional roller-coaster ride in the office. Our hands wandered, but innocently compared to what we already did in Spain. This was different, and I felt like in the midst of the joy of rediscovery, we were also a bit apprehensive, treading warily. On holiday we had fun and acted out of instinctive need, without considering any future together. Now there is a chance this is something beyond superficial attraction and bodies being in tune, and we want to treat that possibility with care. Amazingly, our holiday fling has a second shot and we don't want to ruin it by going too fast. At least that is the way I felt, and I hoped that was the reason why he was taking it slower too. When he finally spoke, it was as if he were able to read my thoughts and answered my unspoken questions.

"I want to date you, Molly", he said hoarsely when we allowed our swollen lips a break, mine more bruised than his because of his emerging stubble, but it was a lovely kind of mild hurt which made it feel like his lips were clamped to mine even when they were not. Now he gently pressed his lips to the top of my head instead, murmuring. "Can I take you on a date? One where we talk for real like we didn't in Spain, and when you don't give me the evil eye like you have all these months in the office?"

A lovely warmth spread inside me.

"I can promise you I won't give you the evil eye, but I'm not so sure about the talking part. I may be desperate to kiss you."

He chuckled softly. I really like that sound.

"I'm desperate to kiss you too as I think you notice, and I'm quite keen to do more than that, but I don't want to rush this, you and me. Now when it is finally happening I want to enjoy every minute. So, on our date kissing _is _allowed but only if we get to do some talking too." He tried to sound stern but failed completely. After a brief silence he continued. "I feel so lucky for having you in my arms this moment. I don't want to jinx it, don't want to go too fast. Also, there is the fact that I'm your boss now and it _is_ a complication, we can't pretend anything else. If Anna didn't need me I would gladly look for another job, but I can't for now. What I _can_ do, is to do things the "right way". Date you before... before we move on. Inform Anna we are seeing each other, so there can be no question of if this was a mutual wish even if it may be for the best not to tell everyone else before we have had a chance to explore this a bit more."

I giggled at the way he sounded so formal and wants to have a stepwise plan, but I realised that the risk to seem like a boss taking advantage of one of his employees is far from appealing. It would destroy his reputation forever. In that sense he has more to lose than me even if I also could come out of it looking like the slutty secretary shagging the boss.

"Believe me, this is very much of free will for my part, but I get your point. I don't think there is much we need to "inform" Anna about though. We gossiped over drinks this Monday and she was the one who made me face my feelings for you instead of sweeping them under the rug, and she tried to convince me you had feelings for me too and wasn't involved with Georgie. She set us up tonight and would probably cheer if she knew we were lying here snogging right now."

He split up in a big grin.

"Really?"

"Really. I think she figured this whole thing out long before us and I wouldn't be surprised if she expects a full report of what happened tonight next time I see her."

"Now, that is a relief. As much as I have hoped we would somehow end up like this, I have dreaded telling her if it really happened. I know you're her favourite and I think she might claw my eyes out if I did anything inappropriate to you or hurt you."

"Nah, she would just fire you and spread the word you are a useless bastard, but in this case I'm sure we have her blessing", I smirked.

"I would appreciate if you keep some details from her when you tell her though."

"Like what?" I tease even if I know full well what he eludes to.

"Like this", he nibbled my earlobe, making my skin prickle. "And this", his lips trailed down my neck. "And this", he kissed me intensively, let his tongue swirl around mine and simultaneously found my breast, caressing over the nipple with the pad of his thumb through the thin dress fabric.

"I've never liked to withhold information from my boss, but maybe I can make an exception this time", I panted before his demanding lips silenced me again.

Only one thing bothered me. I appreciate that he wants to do this "the right way" but I'm slightly concerned that if it takes too long before we have this presumed date, and whatever other steps he thinks are necessary before we end up in bed together, I might throw myself at him one day in the office and beg him to take me. After all, I have secretly desired him ever since we first slept together.

"When do you see this date taking place?" I asked hoping I sounded casual.

"I wish I could say tonight, but I need to drive down to Bath and help my aunt moving to a new apartment because I have promised her. Next week is crammed with business meetings even in the evenings. I wouldn't have planned it like that if I had known this would happen, but it wouldn't look good to cancel now. How about next Friday?"

That is so far away, one week is half an eternity.

"Obviously I have to check my calendar, but I think I'm free."

"Obviously. I'm grateful if you can squeeze me in between all your other hot dates."

"Since I lost Alex, I think I might have an opening."

I smiled and thought he must know I'm totally joking, but when I looked up on him he looked a little bit crushed. I don't know how that is possible because clearly he is the one with a trail of admirers in his tracks wherever he goes, even if he seems unaware, but then I realised he was the one of us who had exposed himself verbalising his feelings. I had not said it back in so many words even if I thought my lips silently had revealed a great deal.

I placed my hand on his chest and almost got distracted from what I wanted to say by the feeling of his taut muscles through the shirt fabric but pulled myself together.

"I didn't say before, when you told me about your feelings... but I'm fond of you too and I'm dying to go on a date with you."

"Seriously? Even if you weren't single at the beginning of this evening?"

He sounds half joking, half like he really needs to know. That fact makes me feel embarrassed and I bury my face at the nook of his neck. I really don't want him to for even a split second believe that I'm some feeble girl swaying in the direction of any admirer.

"Oi, I told you I had planned to end it."

"You did but maybe it was only something you said." He sounds amused and teasing, but I respond seriously. I want him to know that even if I had no idea what coming with him to his home tonight would entail, it wasn't just a whim for my part. I very much wanted to be with _him, _no one else.

"One reason was I didn't love him. The other reason was you."

His hand finds my chin and turns me up to face him.

"I like that reason very much."

"You have always been on my mind since Spain, even when I didn't want you to be."

I felt silly for confessing it, but he didn't seem to find it silly at all. His firm lips found mine again. We kissed and cuddled, and I just felt so good and comfortable and happy there in his arms, on the sofa in front of the fire. Sleepy too at some point after this long emotional day and when I rested my head on his chest between kisses I must have fallen asleep.

* * *

He too it seems, because he sure is sound asleep now. Carefully I sit up to watch him, I anyway needed to shift position because sleeping on someone on a couch all night is more romantic than comfortable. He looks adorable, with hair dishevelled from my fingers running through it, the previously impeccable white shirt now wrinkled, and two buttons unbuttoned, ridded of the bow tie and dinner jacket hours ago. He is incredibly hot like this, like a sleeping, decadent and sexy, yet sweet, dandy. He looks peaceful and strong, boyish and manly all at once and I feel a wave of tenderness mixed with desire run through me.

Seeing his wrinkled shirt makes me aware I'm still wearing Anna's exquisite dress and I don't want it to end up looking the same. I have nothing to change to but as my gaze moves around the room it falls on a blanket draped over one of the armchairs. That will do. I move away from him, swiftly pull off the dress, carefully place it over the armchair and wrap myself in the blanket instead. Luckily it is not one of those itchy wool plaids but a lovely soft blanket which makes me feel like I'm wrapped in a cloud.

Now an oversized soft wrap, I try to smoothly place myself in the same position as before without waking him, but it isn't easy to move gracefully when tightly fit inside a blanket and he stirs when I wriggle on top of him. Drowsily he opens his eyelids halfway and when he sees me he gives me a sexy, lazy smile.

"I feared it was all just a dream, this evening, you, but you're really here."

There is a seductive warmth in his sleepy voice.

"Yup, I'm here in the flesh disturbing your beauty sleep. Sorry", I whisper sheepishly.

"Don't apologise. That's very good news. What were you doing anyway? Getting restless already? It must still be an ungodly hour to get up even by Army standards."

"I woke up and realised I didn't want to ruin Anna's dress, so I took it off."

His eyes widen, suddenly more alert than before. I can't be sure in the faint light, but I think the brown colour turns a shade darker as well.

"You took it _off_?"

I smile at the way his deep voice rises a fraction.

His hands find my now bare shoulders, his palms smoothing over them as if he has to check if what I just said is true, then find me to be wrapped in the blanket from the chest down.

"I didn't strip completely", I giggle when I see his slightly disappointed expression.

"I wish you had", he pulls me closer to him and murmurs close to my ear. I appreciate the solidness and warmth of him under me.

"Tsk… Then you would have thought I'm trying to seduce you."

"Might have. You are pretty seductive in a blanket too. Funny, I have never noticed how sexy this blanket is."

"Could be because I'm wearing very little underneath."

"What exactly _are _you wearing underneath?"

"My panties."

"Only?" His eyes widen again.

"Didn't you notice that dress is backless. It isn't possible to wear a bra with it."

"Oh, I appreciate that dress more and more."

"Alex thought it was a bit prudish."

"Prudish? How?"

"No cleavage or slit."

"He really is an idiot. There is nothing remotely prude about that dress." He almost sounds offended on my behalf, but then he softens. "When I first saw you in it, I thought I was in for a _very_ hard evening. Oh, I mean difficult, not… um… hard like, you know…"

It is so cute how he stutters with embarrassment.

"Anyway, I couldn't imagine then that the evening would end like this."

I refrain from pointing out that things actually turned out to be _hard_ in the other way instead, because even if I have very much enjoyed feeling his hard-on pressed to me when we make out, I don't feel ready for that type of cheeky banter with him. Yet.

"Lucky for you he is such an idiot, so I came running to you." I joke instead and softly trace the contour of his upper lip with my index finger. He has such a beautiful mouth and I still think that his full bottom lip is very kissable now that I have tried it out. If I were to write a review it would get a ten out of ten.

"When you put it like that I'm grateful to him", he smirks. "If you knew how jealous I was of him at the beginning of the party."

"I love that you were jealous but as I said, it was already over for me then and..."

"And what?" he asks when I hesitate.

"He never really stood a chance. Even before you appeared here, something was always missing compared to what we had in Spain and after you showed up, things turned really complicated."

Now he looks utterly amused and curious.

"How were things complicated?"

"Ah, you know I was so furious and still so attracted to you that it was hard to think of anything else. You look very hot in suit, almost hotter than in swimwear", I admit bashfully.

"Really?"

"Uhum, and then there was the dreams."

"The dreams?"

"It's nothing, forget it."

I already regret saying anything. It just slipped from my tongue, but it feels too early to confess my dreams. Naturally, he won't let me off the hook that easily.

"You realise, I won't let you off the hook just like that?"

"Please, I shouldn't have said anything."

"In for a penny, in for a pound..." His mouth is by my ear, his warm breath fanning in the most tantalizing way. "Tell me", he whispers.

I know he won't let go.

"Okay, I started having these dreams about you."

"What was I doing?"

"Hot stuff."

"Hot stuff? Like what?"

"Knitting a sweater for your grandma."

"Is that so? She is far more likely to knit one for me. I think there is other types of 'hot stuff' I do better. Are you sure you didn't dream anything else?"

"Well, you may have done something else involving very nimble fingers."  
"Only fingers?" he cocks his eyebrow provocatively and I know he enjoys this.

"Occasionally you may have applied your mouth…"

"Uhum… Was I talented at what I was doing?"

"Very, you hardly needed any instructions. Maybe at some point I asked you to apply more direct pressure."  
"Ah, I see."

Talking jokingly naughty like this makes me aroused and I can feel through his trousers and the blanket that it has the same effect on him. I'm thinking that aborting the whole plan of dating and taking everything in the "right" bloody order seems like a brilliant idea, but instead of kissing me and remove the blanket and his clothes he rakes his bottom lip with his teeth and let out a sigh.

"This sofa isn't very comfortable to spend all night in. Would you care to join me in my bed instead?"

Though I'm mildly disappointed he shifted topic, I'm totally up for sharing his bed. We get up and he leads me up the stairs while I hold the blanket in place with my other hand. I have not been in his bedroom before, but it turns out he has a bed even bigger than the huge one in the spare room. If we wanted to, we could easily sleep in it without touching each other. He pads over to a chest of drawers and pulls out two tee-shirts.

"Instead of the blanket, if you don't mind. If you sleep in only panties I think all my good intentions will go down the drain", he flashes me a far from angelic grin and I don't know how I'm supposed to be able to behave like a good girl, with or without tees separating us when he is so freaking hot. Anyway I quickly replace the blanket with my tee when he disappears into the ensuite bathroom, then dive under the duvet. When he returns, he wears only the t-shirt, clinging very nicely to his fit form, and boxer briefs. I swallow nervously as I take him in approaching the bed, folding the duvet away to get in beside me. Lying on his side, he props himself up on one elbow and watches me intently. He reaches out a hand and smooths away a strand of hair from my face, touches my cheek, then bends over to kiss me. It is not like the heated kisses from before; this one a little more hesitant as if he doesn't want to start something he won't complete but the passion is present like the bottom note in a perfume. It feels like the loveliest goodnight kiss, warm, comforting, tasting mint from the toothpaste he obviously bothered to apply whilst in the bathroom. It tells me he _literally_ wants to sleep together, so I'm not surprised when he ends it and softly flips me over, so my back is turned to him. He doesn't move away though. His hands find my hips and confidently pull me tightly to him, then he let his palm slide up from my knee on the outside of my thigh and continue upward on the outside of my t-shirt until it finds one of my breasts and cups it, half sexually, half in a hug, like it has found the place where it intends to nest for the night. It feels insanely good. I don't think he intended to arouse me, but I feel my nipple stiffen and a spark shoots up between my legs even if he is nowhere near. This lovely man does not have to work hard for me to want him, his mere presence is enough.

"Good night Molly. You don't realise how fucking pleased I am to finally have you here in my bed."

"I actually think I do, if it is anywhere near as pleased as I am to be here."

The sound of his soft laughter followed by silence, only interrupted by soft breaths in the velvety darkness, and the warmth of his length pressed to my body lulls me to sleep.


	19. A sweet morning

**A/N: First of all, I just want to say thank you guys for always encouraging me to write. Your reviews mean a lot and really make my day sometimes. This week has been mad at work, but here is a chapter finally.**

* * *

**Chapter 19: A sweet morning**

* * *

Monday morning and I'm tingling with nervousness and expectation on my way to work. I suspect that my cheeks are rosy not only from the chilly air and that my eyes remind of sparklers. I know I will have to tone it down the minute I enter the office, but it will be hard because I'm so freaking happy.

* * *

Rewind to Saturday and the bed space beside me is empty and cold when I stir awake. For a split second my heart drops when I think he perhaps has regretted the whole thing and escaped from his own house, but then I see the piece of paper folded to an upside-down V, standing on his pillow. I recognise his beautiful sweeping handwriting.

_Good morning marvellous Molly, I'll be back soon._

_xxx_

_P.S. Still find it amazing you are in my bed, please, please stay put_

Giggling with relief I lay down on my pillow again, snuggle up in the fluffy duvet and pull his pillow to me to hug it and inhale his smell as a substitute in the absence of him. His masculine scent is _so_ good; notes of spices and wood from his lingering aftershave, mixed with the cleanliness of fresh cotton sheets and something else that is purely _him_. I want to bottle the combination and sniff it, willing to risk an overdose.

"Hi there, what are you doing?"

He leans against the doorframe, watching me with curiosity. Embarrassed I let go of the pillow as if it burned and meet his gaze with blushing cheeks.

"Nothing, I just woke up."

"Were you sniffing my pillow?"

His voice is full of laughter and his eyes twinkle. I know I'm so busted.

"Noooo, why would I do that?" I smile in return.

"You missed me?" he suggests with a hint of hope and sits down beside me. When the mattress dips from his weight and his thigh brushes against mine, I swear I get goosebumps just from the proximity of him.

"I did!" The way he looks at me like I'm some kind of miracle in his bed makes me feel confident enough to admit that even if he is terrifyingly handsome. "Where were you?"

"I'm an early bird, ruined forever by the Army, but I thought you needed the sleep after last night, so I went for a jog around the park and passed the nearby French bakery on my way back. The house offers freshly baked French bread rolls and croissants if you fancy some breakfast?"

In response to that tasty offer my stomach rumbles loudly and we both burst into laughter.

"I would love that, obviously, but... could I maybe get a good morning kiss first? So I know last night was real?" I ask, feeling a bit shy. A heated night is after all a heated night, while bright morning is something entirely different.

Now it is his turn to look a bit embarrassed and he pinches his sweaty tee-shirt.

"There is nothing I want more but I'm all sweaty after the run, so I was planning on hitting the shower before breakfast… and before touching you. I just wanted to see if you were awake."

With sudden and surprising courage, I reach for him, grab hold of his damp tee, with the other hand grasp the curls at the nape of his neck and pull him to me.

"I don't mind."

Our lips meet, first gently exploring, then in a searing explosive hard kiss. In no time he agilely moves over me, pinning me down with his lean body and I'm clasping his back, finding my way under his t-shirt, relishing his bare skin. I was wrong. Bright morning can be as heated as any night.

Too soon he tears away with a groan, his breath ragged like mine, his eyes hooded with lust.

"Okay, I think I had better take that shower and I need to make it a cold one", he smirks.

I feel like I need that cold shower too, but don't suggest I join him as that would defeat the purpose and we have agreed to wait out, sort of. That is difficult enough with clothes on. If we were naked in a shower together it would be impossible. This plan to wait out for a bloody date seems worse for every time I kiss him, especially when I already know he is an amazing lover. His eyes, still trained on my lips, are so full of fire and I want him badly, but he stands up. I can't help noticing that his grey, well-fitting joggers tent out. It comforts me to know that least I'm not the only one who am denying myself something here.

"Are you sure?" I say in my flirtiest voice, pouting my lips.

"Not at all, but I think it is for the best."

So frustratingly uncompromising. Well then.

"Okay, you do that, and I'll entertain myself", I sigh, rolling my eyes.

In response, he cocks an eyebrow seductively and bite his lower lip, looking extremely hot and I realise that my words came out sounding dirtier than I intended to.

"I just meant that if you don't mind I can go start preparing the breakfast."

I wonder if my cheeks can get any hotter than they are right now.

He bursts into an amused lovely, warm laughter and I know he knows what I know he interpreted my words like, even if he didn't think I was serious about it. The idea of him picturing me touching myself hover between us in the dense air and now my entire body is flushed. Sweet Jesus, I'm so embarrassed.

"Well then, I'll leave you to it" he chuckles, in one fluid move pulls off his t-shirt, tosses it aside and nonchalantly strolls towards the bathroom. "I trust you find your way to the kitchen if you don't change your mind and decide to stay in bed after all", he teases over his shoulder before closing the bathroom door, leaving me gasping for air after this glimpse of his still spectacular abs and muscular back.

The thought of him undressing completely behind that door is arousing, but I resolutely get out of bed and pad to the kitchen. I need to focus on something else than male fit torso dripping of gleaming water and droplets getting caught in the soft hairs on his stomach. Shit, I'm in so much trouble.

He has bought enough bread rolls and croissants to feed a small country. They smell amazing, making my mouth water and fulfil the purpose of distracting me from Charles. I take out some from the brown paper bags and put in a bread basket. In the fridge I find butter, marmalade and cheese but also bacon and egg and decide to occupy myself with some cooking. When Charles joins me ten minutes later I'm frying bacon and gently stir the scrambled eggs.

His dark hair is damp, and he smells fresh, like soap rather than aftershave but it makes my nostrils flare anyway. He wears a light grey, thin wool sweater which looks so soft I bet is cashmere. It enhances his broad shoulders and follows the form of his upper body in a very flattering way. He has combined it with hip-hugging, faded jeans and despite looking casual he would fit nicely on the front cover of any men's magazine. So much for distracting myself from his body making breakfast, he ruined it in one second, literally. Compared to this gorgeous vision, I feel very inadequate and unsexy still dressed in the oversized t-shirt I borrowed last night.

He seems to disagree though. When he sees me standing by the stove, spatula in hand, his eyes turn darker and he closes the gap between us in two big steps. Without a word he pulls me to him and kisses me intensively, one hand grabbing a fistful of my hair, one finding the cheek of my bum holding me tightly to him and I feel completely electrified.

"You're making it harder and harder for me to decide which version of you I find hottest," he murmurs close to my ear when we break apart, then leans his forehead to mine. "I already found it hard to choose between 'Beach Molly', 'Office Molly' and 'Evening gown Molly', but now I have to add "Molly in my tee with bare legs, making breakfast for me". I like that version very much. It may actually be my favourite so far".

"Are you kidding? I don't feel hot at all", I giggle, slightly embarrassed and still self-conscious.

He stares at me like I'm mad and suddenly I'm being pulled from the kitchen, out to the hallway where a large mirror hangs on the wall. He makes me stand in front of it, with him behind, hugging me so I'm pressed to his chest. Resting his chin on the top of my head he locks eyes with me in the mirror.

"Now you see what I see; the most gorgeous girl in the world."

I see the most gorgeous _man_ in the world standing behind me, but I also see what he means. His t-shirt it is like a short dress on me, showing very much of my legs, which after all are quite well-shaped. My long dark hair is still wavy from last night but also tousled by him into a sexy bed-head look. My cheeks are rosy, my lips dark pink and plump from all the kissing and my eyes sparkle with happiness and desire. I look wild, sexy and beautiful like I never did before. _He_ does this to me.

"You are beautiful, just like you are", he says hoarsely and gently places his fingers under my chin to turn my face away from the mirror, up towards him and kisses me.

"Thank you", I whisper in return, my knees like jelly.

Simultaneously we feel the smell of burnt bacon and rush back to the kitchen in time to save it from total disaster, laughing away the sexual tension. Keeping my hands off him is difficult, keeping my mind from imagining having fiery sex right here and now is even harder.

We eat by the kitchen island and I don't know when breakfast ever tasted this good. Maybe it is the fresh bread, maybe making out all night made me extra hungry, or maybe it is the company and the happy flutter in my stomach. I don't get how his company simultaneously can be so comfortable and so thrilling, but I love being with him. I'm so lucky he seems to love being with me too. I can't believe we missed out on this for months.

"I can't believe that yesterday morning we were still barely on speaking terms", he says, takes a bite of his croissant and smiles.

"Me neither."

I spread marmalade on a bread roll. I couldn't resist a second because they are absolutely delicious. "I said it last night, but I want to say it again; I'm sorry I didn't listen to you sooner, that I didn't let you explain. Then we could have had breakfast together long ago. I think I was afraid you would manipulate me, make me feel things for you again, then dump me a second time."

Now his handsome face is serious, and he puts his large hand over mine, lace our fingers and it feels warm and safe.

"But now you know I didn't dump you a first time."

"Yes, _now_ I know, and it sort of turns my world upside down. Changes everything I thought was true these last months and it is a bit mind-blowing." I chew on my bread, thinking, then continue. "I think I liked you all this time, even when I hated you, but I pushed it away. I guess my dreams was the only time when I was being honest with myself and I really tried to fight it. I think I stuck with Alex for so long to try to prove to myself I was over you, but I probably didn't fool anyone, not Jackie or Anna anyway."

"You fooled _me_, so I'm grateful the acting is over."

"Sorry if I hurt you."

There was a time when I hoped me being with Alex would be a thorn in his side, now the last thing I want is to hurt him.

"You did actually", he states calmly and without bitterness. "You caused me many a sleepless night, but it doesn't matter now, and I wasn't sleepless _only_ from being sad. I had some pretty heated dreams too." Now he grins cheekily , looking far more happy than sad, making me feel less like a villainess.

"I'll try to make it up to you", I offer huskily.

He answers my seductive offer with a whistle and I know we are good.

Finally, we have to break up from the lovely breakfast and get going because he needs to drive to Bath and help his aunt. He tells me about her when he drives me back to my flat (he refused to accept when I said I could take the tube). It seems he is quite close to her and her children, as he doesn't have any brothers or sisters himself. They will all join to help with the move today.

"I would love to bring you, so you could meet them, but I feel I want us to have some alone time first before involving others in _us_. I feel like I don't want to share you with anyone just yet, even if it is a little bit egoistic", he excuses himself even I never would have expected him to ask me to accompany him today.

I love that he thinks there is an _us_.

"I get what you mean. I would love to see them someday, but today feels a bit previous even if I will miss you."

"I will too. Miss you." He puts his hand on my thigh and squeezes it. "I won't return until late tomorrow night. You realise we won't meet again until in the office on Monday?"

"Yeah, I figured."

"That will be strange."

"It will definitely be strange with you being all bossy again."

"I'm never bossy, _you_ are the one with an attitude in the office", he smirks and now pinches my thigh instead, making me squirm and shout.

"Oi! That is so not true!" I try to move away from him. "Anyway, I guess we will keep this secret for now? Try not to show?"

He glances at me sideways, maybe trying to read what I think of that.

"I think it would be for the better for the moment. Partly because I just have stepped up to fill in for Anna and I need everyone's trust and can't single you out in any way. Partly because, as I said before, I would like to enjoy _us_ in our own pace before we tell everyone else."

"I couldn't agree more, but I think it will be difficult."

"Yeah, I think torturous covers it better. Should we set up some rules to stick to in the office maybe? "

"Like what?" I ask, intrigued.

"Um, like 'No flirting allowed in the office'?"

"Flirting with you, or do I have to stop flirting _completely_?"

He sends me a dark look, accompanied by a pained groan.

"Just kidding, I have never been flirting in the office. In fact, my motto has been not to get emotionally involved at work."

He throws his head back against the seat in laughter.

"Sometimes we are just scarily alike. That has always been my motto too."

"Yet here we are. Not living up to our own standards."

"Yes, indeed here we are and I'm quite enjoying it."

"All the more reason for us to have rules, I think you are right about that. We probably need more rules than just the one about flirting. How about 'No groping or kissing allowed in the office'?"

"That might be a good idea too", he muses.

"And 'Never be alone together in the copy room'."

"What is it with you and the copy room?"

"Let's just say that one of the dreams I told you about took place in the copy room. Maybe I will tell you more one day."

"You have to, I'm already dying of curiosity."

The corners of his eyes crinkles with laughter and he looks really happy, just like he did in Spain.

Charles stops the car near my apartment building and turns off the engine.

"So, this is goodbye for now. Can I call you tonight?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"No, but I liked to ask."

"Yes, please call tonight."

He unbuckles his belt to lean over and kiss m. It is a gentle kiss this time, but it leaves my body humming for more. A hummingbird's heart rate can reach as high as 1,260 beats per minute. I feel like that at the end of this kiss.

"I'll call you tonight and see you on Monday."

"You know, even if I wish I didn't have to say goodbye to you, it feels so much better this time than when we said goodbye in Spain."

"That is because we're not really saying bye this time, more like see you soon."

We kiss once more, then I reluctantly leave the car and miss him already when I wave, watching him pull away, before I walk the short distance to my building. At the entrance, an unwelcome sight awaits me. Seated on the steps leading up to the front door is none other than Alex. He looks pretty exhausted, but I don't feel sorry for him to be honest. Not after the bottom mark he hit last night. Seeing him sitting there looking hungover and haggard, I wonder what I ever saw in him.

When he hears my steps approach he looks up and get to his feet.

"Sweetheart, finally!"

Sweetheart?! Excuse me? He never called me that before, so why now?

Oh wait, of course things didn't work out as he had hoped with Georgie and now he is here and… He can't seriously be thinking about making up, can he?

"What are you doing here, Alex?" I ask coolly.

"Do I need a reason for wanting to see my girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend? You broke up with me last night, with a text, remember? Said you were a better match with Georgie."

"But I'm not, that was a fucking mistake and I sent you loads of text messages taking it back!"

I actually saw that I had twenty-something new messages from him, but I didn't bother to read them yet.

"It doesn't work that way. You can't just break up, then take it back. I have a say too."

He looks surprised as if that hadn't occurred to him before.

"Don't you want to make up? To stay together?"

"No, I don't. Honestly, I don't think we are very good together either. If you hadn't beaten me to it I would have broken up this weekend."

"But you wanted me to come to the party? That must mean something for sure!" His eyes are bulging with disbelief.

I shrug my shoulders.

"I wanted a date for the party. Not my finest moment, I know, and I actually had a bad conscience for stringing you along until you started drooling down Georgie's cleavage."

"You used me!"

"And you behaved like a dickhead, so I guess that makes us even."

"You used me and then you disappeared." His eyes narrow suspiciously. "Where were you tonight? Where did you go?"

"Since you broke up with me last night, it is none of your damn business."

He gets to his feet and grabs my arm hard, his fingers digging into my flesh even through the coat, hurting me.

"You little tart! You were with someone else!"

"So what if I was? All you were thinking of was Georgie until you realised she didn't fancy you. Then you came running back. But guess what? I'm. Not. Interested. Let go of me, you are hurting me!"

Instead he tightens his hold and looks like he wants to hit me.

"Let her go."

I voice of steel cuts through the air and makes us both jump. The difference is I welcome it, Alex doesn't.

"You!" he spits but lets go of my arm and I rub it where he held, certain I will get a bruise.

"What is your fucking boss doing here Molly?"

I don't know, he should be on his way to Bath now, but I'm ecstatic to see him.

"Wait!" Alex looks like he had an epiphany. "You have been with _him_! You are shagging your boss! I was right all the time! You filthy little who..."

Charles fist hitting his jaw silences him. Shit, I never had a man hit another man for me before, but it is really hot in a stupid alpha male way and I adore Charles more than ever for this.

Alex was not prepared for the punch at all and falls to the ground, whining.

"Just get up and leave", Charles orders. "Molly doesn't deserve that. We have done precisely nothing as long as you were together but if I'm not mistaken _you_ broke up with _her_ last night. That is your mistake and you have to live with it, but she doesn't deserve you slagging her off. Go now, before I lose my temper for real."

He is so threatening, powerful and manly and I'm the stupidest girl in the world for thinking so, but I really want to take him upstairs to my bed and thank him properly for saving my bacon.

He steps closer to me and protectively puts his arm around my shoulders as we watch Alex get up and defeated walk away after one last dirty look at us.

Charles turns to me and cups my face in his hands.

"Are you alright?"

"A bit shaken, but yes. Why are you here? You left."

"You forgot your clutch in the car, so I just drove around the block and came back to leave it. To be honest, I was happy for an excuse to kiss you one more time and I'm even happier I returned in time to interrupt Alex's tantrum."

"You were pretty hot, fighting for me. No one has done that before", I giggle.

"Well, I've never done that before either. Fist fighting isn't my strong suit." He shakes his hand and smile grimly. "I hope he hurts more than I do."

"Can you drive?", I ask, hoping he will say no and stay.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be fine in a minute. Especially if you kiss me goodbye."

So we kiss again, here on my steps and I swear to god the kisses get better for each time. They are totally addictive and cause him another ten minute's delay.

"Take care now. No more fighting in Bath."

"No more fighting, I promise. There are probably no damsels in distress there."

I watch him drive away a second time, then slip inside and just collapse on the couch to digest everything. For one minute. Then I have to call Jackie and share the news.

* * *

He called later that night, just like he had promised. I almost didn't dare to answer when his number showed on my screen, we had never been on the phone before and suddenly my stomach was filled with butterflies. Finally I answered, of course. We stayed on the phone for two hours, unable to hang up. I sat in the sofa, walked around in the flat, had a sandwich, lay on my bed twining my hair, all while we were talking, laughing, flirting. I didn't know a phone call could be so good. We talked until I almost fell asleep and he heard it in my voice.

"I think it is time to go to bed." His voice is soft and sweet like honey.

"I like talking to you. It makes me feel good", I mumble sleepily.

"I like talking to you too, very much, but I think you will fall asleep any minute now. We can talk tomorrow when I drive back."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good night then Charles James."

"Good night Molly Dawes, and I encourage sweet dreams about yours truly."

"You wish."

"I do."

_I want him._

When we talked again yesterday evening as he drove home from Bath, it was much the same. It seems the things we have to talk about now that we _can_ are endless. He is so fascinating and funny and flirtishly sexy even over the phone and when we finally hang up I'm more in love than I think I ever have been in my life.

That is why I'm so freakishly happy this morning, mixed with not so little nervous, as I enter the office.

* * *

**A/N: Let me know if you had an overdose of fluff by now.**


	20. Breaking the rules

**_A/N: Another hectic week over and I feel like I'm writing with a snail's pace. Writing bits and pieces here and there, interrupted by everything that must be done or the unavoidable need for sleep. Shouldn't complain because I'm so far really enjoying my new job, but I always long to write and it disturbs me when I'm unable to focus on it. Hope this is enjoyable even if the writing process was cut up in many small chunks._**

**_xxx_**

* * *

**Chapter 20: Breaking the rules**

* * *

I have been by my desk twenty-three minutes when Charles strides through the lift doors and my pulse rate spikes alarmingly. He looks so masculine and sharp this morning, dressed in a navy wool coat, his dark curls neatly tamed and the chiselled jaw line flawlessly shaved. I take a deep breath and grasp with my fingers around the seat of the chair, to ensure that I don't accidentally fly up from it and throw myself around his neck.

No surprise, Georgie has not arrived yet, but several other co-workers have, so we are far from alone in the open landscape and leaping into his arms is not an option even if I'm desperate to do it. Still, I'm half-expecting some kind of secret, discrete sign from him, confirming that we have a special connection, but he greets me in the _exact_ same way as he does the others passing by; brief eye contact (in my case so brief it almost was no contact), a nod, a polite warm smile and "Good morning Molly".

I know this is what we agreed, he is playing by the rules, but my heart instantly drops. Like all the way down to my feet. We agreed:

_No flirting._

_No kissing or groping._

_No being alone together in the copy room._

But I expected _something_, I realise that now_. _A twinkle in the depth of his chocolate eyes, a smile with more warmth than usual, a greeting with hidden meaning, but there is nothing at all. Is he this good at hiding his feelings or did I dream the wonderful weekend? Right now I'm not quite sure, but plaster on a smile which he barely has a chance to register because he passes so quickly.

"Good morning."

Should I add 'Sir' to seem like a normal respectful employee who never has snogged (or shagged) my boss? After quick internal deliberation I decide not to. It would be overdoing the whole respectfulness thing compared to how I have been with him before and maybe make people suspicious instead.

He disappears, and I pretend to tap away on my desktop, fidget with my papers, pass by the pantry to get myself a cuppa, stare at my screen sipping said cuppa and get absolutely nothing done. I'm a sad remnant of the efficient PA Anna once forced to go on holiday. If hating one's boss is a disruption to the business, being in love with same boss is even more so. Crap.

When Georgie finally arrives, fashionably late as always, I'm grateful for the distraction even if I haven't quite decided if I'm angry with her for being so overly friendly to Alex at the benefit that it made him fall for her, or thankful for the opportunity to talk to Charles she provided me with. Oblivious to my troubled thoughts, she is sunny as always.

"Good morning Molls! Isn't this a lovely Monday?" she chirps.

Indeed it was until _he_ was so damn good at pretending like nothing.

Gracefully she takes her coat off, simultaneously tossing her long glossy hair and sits down. Last week I would have been so jealous at her perfect beauty, but strangely, now I'm not. I guess I was only ever jealous because I thought Charles fancied her.

Her bum has barely touched the seat before she wheels her chair closer to mine and hisses conspiratorially.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"So, what happened last Friday? With you and the boss? I hope I was right to stall Alex for a bit, so you could talk and dance?"

"Hush! Keep your voice down."

To be fair, she did, but I'm a bit edgy when it comes to mentioning me and Charles in the same sentence. I look around, but no one seems to be paying attention to what we are talking about.

"To be honest Georgie, I'm not sure if I'm mad at you or if I owe you one."

"Oh, I think we both know you owe me one", she smirks, apparently pleased with herself. "I simply couldn't stand by and let you two miserable sods keep acting like two planets circling around one another, when all you want to do is collide."

"I don't think two _planets_ are actually circling around each other, one would technically be a moon circling in orbit around the other…"

"Yada, yada, no need to mark my words. You know what I mean. You had to stop being so stubborn, he had to stop being so bloody correct and both needed to bang your heads together."

"You think? I know that Charles told you everything, but how could you be sure you weren't ruining things between me and Alex, flirting with him like you did? For all you knew I was truly in love with him."

"Oh, please Molly." She bestows me a disarming smile. "Give me some credit here. I have told you I'm more skilled handling people and reading emotions than managing Excel and typing and I'm trying to be the best PA to Charles I can be, using _my_ key strengths. I'm also trying to be a good friend to you, I promise. I wasn't flirting. I kept Alex occupied which is quite different and I did it for a good reason. If he deserved you he wouldn't have paid me any attention anyway."

Now Georgie looks unusually stern for her, frowning her immaculate brows and I know she is right.

"You see, already my first day here it was bloody obvious that you and Charles had a _huge _crush on each other even if you fervently denied it. I knew long before he shared the secret one evening after a few drinks had loosened his tongue. Did he tell you my fiancée is his best friend?"

I nod and can't believe it was so obvious to Georgie we had feelings for each other when I didn't even admit it to myself. I'm starting to wonder if both she and Anna are psychics.

"He did, and he told me about what happened in Paris. And okay, you're right, I _do_ have feelings for him, but I didn't want to because I thought he was a dick. I thought he had screwed me over in Spain and then, when you returned from Paris, I thought the two of you were an item." I admit bashfully.

"What!? Oh my god, I didn't see that coming. But he set that straight I hope?"

"He did, and you have to tell me all about it. I actually can't believe you managed to keep your engagement a secret! It was obvious you were happy though, when you came back, and at the time I thought it was because you had shagged your way through the week."

Her face twists with appalled horror.

"Ewww! No! I could never look at Charles like that, let alone touch him. Shit, you must have hated my guts?"

"Not really. I thought you knew nothing of our story, so I was jealous but not angry with you. You're simply too nice to be mad at. I was furious with_ him_ for getting it on with someone who I consider a friend right under my nose."

"Poor you, and poor Charles! But now he told you how he feels?"

"He told me that too, Friday evening at his place. So yeah, thank you for stalling Alex I suppose." I feel myself blushing at the memory of Charles declaring his feelings for me.

Georgie claps her hand together in excitement.

"You suppose?" she chuckles. "You don't know how much I have been looking forward to this! So, are you guys finally together now?"

"I hope so… I haven't seen him since Saturday morning…"

"You spent the night?"

"Only sleeping, well snogging a bit too. Anyway I haven't seen him since Saturday because he had to go to Bath and today I'm wondering if I was imagining it all. When he walked in here this morning he didn't show as much as a flicker of emotion."

"He _is_ very talented at being stone-faced, but believe me, when it comes to you it is like a whirlwind of emotions inside him."

"Now you're exaggerating", I giggle but feel ridiculously happy for her saying so.

"I'm not! You should have heard him that evening when he told Elvis and me about you. He was simply the cutest. Elvis is in the Army but was home for a week and we had invited Charles over for dinner in our London home for the first time. Elvis always tries to get Charles plastered and almost never succeed, but this evening Charles seemed to crave getting pissed. He was really frustrated over something, or _someone_ as it turned out. Through the years I have known Charles, he has always been so controlled, always kept his emotions in check and I have never taken him for a guy who would fall head over heels. With his ex he always seemed a bit detached. After a few drinks he spilled the whole story about how you met in Spain. He sat there all flustered, raking his fingers through his hair until he looked quite wild and told us how it drove him absolutely crazy to see but not touch you every day here at work. Said it killed him that you wouldn't let him explain and to know you had a boyfriend. As I said, I already had guessed he had feelings for you but not like that. Maybe I'm telling you too much now, more than he would like me to, but us girls need to stick together and believe me, that man is _madly_ in love with you. Elvis did his best to wind him up further of course, but I decided then that it would be my mission to try to help you, because you clearly needed assistance to find your way back to each other."

"I guess we did." I can feel the silly smile on my face.

"How _could_ you refuse to talk to him for so long when you had feelings for him?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"Self-protection? I was sure he had screwed me over and would do it again given half the chance."

She puts her hand over mine.

"Molls, Charles is a really decent bloke. Better than most. He has an almost disturbingly strong moral compass. That is also why he didn't want to push himself on you when you made it clear you didn't want to hear him out."

"I know that now and I feel like I have wasted so much time."

"Only a couple of months. That's not much in the long perspective", she grins.

"Feels like it now. Especially when he is so good at keeping up appearances and we won't get the chance to go on a date until Friday."

"You won't see each other outside work until _Friday_? How can you not when it is what you both want?" she asks incredulously.

"He has business meetings."

"Oh, that man needs to work on his priorities! He clearly doesn't know what is best for him."

"I think he doesn't want to let anyone down. Not Anna or any of our partners and customers, but I wish he wasn't sticking so firmly to his principles. To be honest it sucks."

"I can totally see that. It is almost as bad as if Elvis had had to go return to duty immediately after the proposal, before we had the chance to celebrate with a proper shag."

She shakes her head, her eyes filled with sympathy.

"But he didn't, right?" I ask with a laugh.

"No, luckily we had three whole days - and nights - in Paris. We celebrated, I can promise you that", she smiles cheekily.

"The staff meeting starts in a minute, but do you want to grab some lunch later and tell me all about the proposal?"

"I'd love too but I must warn you, I can talk about that for hours and hours, so a regular lunch break may not be long enough."

"That is fine. With Anna gone I'm not that busy anyway."

I'm so glad that Georgie and I are back to normal and even better friends than we were before I thought she was Charles' girlfriend, because now she can talk openly about her fiancée. Finally I have the explanation to why she was so secretive about her private life and now when she has no reason to be she is really bubbly about it. She would never be able to replace Jackie or Anna in my life but luckily there is no limit to how many good friends one can have.

The staff meeting turns out to be half pleasure, half torture. It is a pleasure watching Charles standing before us, strikingly handsome and casually powerful in his dark grey three-piece suit and white shirt, imposing even with hands tucked in his trouser pockets and able to make everyone listen attentively without needing to raise his voice. I know the others feel trust in him and they are right to, because he has no intention of letting them down. He is committed to fill Anna's shoes in her absence to the extent that he will put that before his own needs. He is mesmerizing and irresistible, and I find it hard to take in that we kissed and shared bed the other night. Even harder to believe he wants to do it again. This is where the torture comes in. I enjoy watching him, but it doesn't feel like he is _mine_. He feels distant and way out of my league. The more I look at him in this forum where he is totally in his comfort zone, the harder it is to believe he could be serious about me, about _us,_ and he does nothing to ease my worries. He does not meet my eyes when his gaze wanders around the room and he certainly does not flash me a smile. I sit like on nails, realising how desperately I want him, but am back to doubting it ever will. I _know_ confidence is sexy and self-doubt is uncool, but right now I can't help feeling like a very ordinary assistant who has an unreciprocated and futile crush on her boss.

As soon as the meeting is over I slip away without trying to seek contact with him, so he won't have to awkwardly dodge it. I hide in the toilet room for a while.

"So, you are hiding here again Molly Dawes. How pathetic_", _I can't help saying out loud when I meet my own gaze in the mirror. Before I have time to dive deeper into self-pity, Georgie happily storms in.

"Lunch time! Get your coat and let's get gossiping."

My spirits immediately rise, and I tell her I'm in.

"Why were you looking so sad and hiding in the toilet room? Is it about Charles?" she asks when we come out on the street outside the office building.

"He still hasn't acknowledged with the smallest sign that there is anything going on between us. Maybe he is just skilled at keeping up a façade, but I wish he would let it slip a little, so I know he hasn't regretted the whole thing. I was _dying _during the staff meeting because it feels like he is miles away, when I need him to hold me."

"Oh Molly, I understand if it is hard that he is keeping it so strictly professional, but you know why and I'm sure it will feel alright when you talk tonight."

"I hope so._ If_ he has time to talk at all what with his business dinner. Anyway, enough of that. I don't want to spend this lunch wining over Charles. Now, tell me everything about Elvis."

When we return to the office, slightly tipsy as we concluded that a day like this called for a two-hour wine lunch, I know a lot about the love of Georgie's life. Elvis is a dashing special forces officer who never expected to settle down until he met Georgie and fell in love. His proposal took her completely surprise but she is ecstatic about it and in her spare time she is busy planning the wedding next summer. Even if nothing has changed since the morning I'm feeling way happier when I return to my desk because Georgie's joy is infectious. Maybe the half bottle of white also made me relax a bit.

Late afternoon I haven't seen even a glimpse of Charles since the staff meeting. He has been occupied in meetings in his office, with different visitors coming and going. I have an errand to the archive room and when I return to my desk, Georgie looks mischievous.

"The boss said he wanted to see you in his office. He needs your advice on some paperwork Anna left for him."

Since he has been so infuriatingly professional all day this sounds like a more likely reason for him to ask for me than that he actually wants to see me, but my heart is anyway thumping hard in my chest as I enter his office. Maybe I will finally have a moment alone with him.

I find him to be alone as I hoped, any business guests gone for now. He seems absorbed by what he is doing and only looks up from his screen when I clear my throat. He seems surprised to find me standing there.

"Molly?"

"Georgie said you asked for me."

"Did she?" Now he looks amused.

"She said you needed me for something. Some paperwork?"

"Come to think of it, she is right. I _do_ need you. Will you please close the door?"

I turn and close the door, still unsure if he really wants my help though hoping he wants something more personal. He seems to be a stickler for rules, so I assume the first anyway. When I turn to face him again he looks at me in tense silence for a few long seconds and I'm a bundle of nerves. Maybe I'm also still a bit tipsy and I lean my back against the door. Without saying a word, he gets up from his desk and in a five long steps he stands in front of me. Now a smile plays at the corner of his mouth and the twinkle I have longed to see is there in his eyes. How I love that almost-smile, it feels like the bearer of good news.

"How has your day been Ms. Dawes? Are you enjoying working in this office?"

"I used to, now I'm not so sure any more."

"How come?"

"There is this new boss and I'm not sure I get along with him. I find that… distracting."

"Really? In what way?"

As he asks he raises one hand and with the pad of his thumb grazes over my lips, while letting the other fingers caress gently over my cheek. I shiver.

"I find it hard to focus on the things I really should do."

"Why?"

Now he places his other hand to the door I'm leaning my back against, his arm framing me, and dips his head, so our lips are dangerously close.

"I can't stop thinking about that I want him to kiss me." Yup, that is definitely the luncheon wine speaking.

He smiles, and his hooded eyes are intensively fixed on me.

"That is so strange, because against my better judgement I have to do this..."

The hand that was caressing my face just now, finds my chin and angles my face so his lips can touch mine.

He brushes over my lips ever so gently, barely touching them. Even so it feels amazing and I hear a sigh of contentment escape him, matching my feelings. He _wants_ to kiss me, and it makes me so incredibly happy.

"You barely lasted one day Charles James", I smile.

"Meaning?" He smiles too, his lips still grazing mine.

"Before you broke our rules."

"Oh those", he says tongue in cheek. "I have always liked rules; in school, in the Army, in the workplace, but I realised today that this specific set of rules..."

He kisses me softly at the corner of my mouth.

"…this specific rules, I'm not a fan off."

A soft kiss at the other corner of my mouth.

"In fact, I _hate_ these rules and have been wanting to break them since I entered the office this morning."

He now kisses me softly square on the lips, making my toes curl and my stomach flutter. Then a second time, longer, deeper, gently coaxing my lips open. Not that I don't want to. I want it with all of me and I coil my arms around his neck and hold him to me, respond to his touch, mould myself into him. We kiss with increasing intensity, consumed by each other until we finally need a pause to breathe and interrupt ourselves with a slightly embarrassed and almost shy laughter, because we surprised ourselves. This is not normal workplace behaviour for any of us. I hoped for _something_ but didn't expect _this_.

He looks at me with gooey eyes, filled with tenderness and smooths my dishevelled hair in place.

"Look what you made me do."

"What _I_ made you do? Don't you own up to your own actions?" I giggle but quite like the thought he could not help himself.

"Okay, look what _I_ did. I couldn't keep my hands off you because I find you totally irresistible." He buries his fingers in my hair again, tugging it gently as he cradles my head with his large hands.

"That was cheesy."

I love it though.

"Don't forget that I have wanted to do this for months, ever since we said bye in Spain. It has required considerable self-discipline not to act on it. Kissing you this weekend was like pulling a plug or breaking through a dam and now there is no way holding it back. My need to kiss you I mean."

I feel that I have a huge grin on my face. It is unbelievable that he, the unattainable boss who I until recently thought was an asshole, is saying these words to me.

"To be honest I thought maybe you had changed your mind."

"Me? No way, why would you think that?"

"You didn't even look at me, I thought there would be some small way we would show each other... I'm sorry, I know it is silly and I'm fine now really."

He keeps smiling.

"Do you know why I didn't look at you? Like in the staff meeting? Because I felt that if I did, I wouldn't be able to look away. I would get stuck looking at you and smiling like a fool and then everyone would see I'm in love with you. You don't have to doubt that. My problem is I want to kiss you all the time and I'm afraid I won't be able to hide it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. It is unfair really", he continues. "You have been snogging Alex all this time, something I can't stand to even think about, and I haven't kissed _anyone, _not once, since I met you. I'm starving for your touch."

I like him better by the minute, if that is even possible when you already feel the way I do.

"To tell the truth I didn't kiss Alex that much and never like this."

"Like what?" He smiles and looks pleased.

"Like this."

I pull him to me and we stay quiet for another while, until he finally breaks away with ragged breath.

"Shit, I need to head off to my dinner meeting or I'll be late. I wish I was having dinner with you instead. Friday is too far away."

"It is very far away."

"Can I call you later? If it isn't too late."

"Please call, even if it is late. I like talking to you before I go to bed."

He smiles so much the corners of his eyes crinkle and leans his forehead to mine.

"I like that too and I hope that sometime soon, we can talk to each other in the _same_ bed, instead of over the phone."

My heart makes a somersault at the thought.

"So do I."

"Maybe in the meantime we can change the rules, so a little bit of kissing is allowed in my office?"

"I would like that adjusted rule very much."

To celebrate that, we kiss again before he smooths my hair in place once more and I leave to dazed sit down by my desk. Soon after he leaves for his dinner meeting and barely glances at me when he passes me and Georgie, but now I know why and as my gaze follows him I see him turn inside the lift and the doors close his eyes are resting on me.

One minute later my phone buzzes from an incoming text.

_CJ: Missing you already. Wish Friday was here. NOW. xxx_


	21. The slowest week ever

**A/N: A chapter a week is the speed of updates you can count on from me for now due to everything going on in RL. This evening publishing in Finland as I'm on a business trip.**

**Not quite time for the Friday date yet but I hope you enjoy anyway.**

**xxx**

* * *

**Chapter 21: The slowest week ever**

* * *

Countdown. Never ever has a week passed so slowly. It is not even a full week we are talking about here. Friday is only _four_ days away, but time goes by agonizingly slowly, except for the moments we have alone or when we talk on the phone once his business dinners are over for the evening. Those moments pass all too quickly. My consolation is that he says he has rarely regretted anything as much as having scheduled work every bloody evening this week and he resents that he cannot escape from it without harming business relationships. I used to think he was the slippery, cheating type who would inevitably let everyone around him down given half the chance, but now I see daily proof of how loyal and trustworthy he is. He will not betray the faith Anna has placed in him by putting his own needs first and be with me and I totally respect that, even if I don't necessarily like it. It makes me want him even more though.

"Do you always work this much?" I ask, hoping that after our Friday date I will get the chance to see him a bit more on weekdays.

"No, but I _have_ been working a lot lately. To be honest, I thought it was a brilliant way to keep my mind off from you when I couldn't have you", he tells me over the phone Monday night. "Now it doesn't seem brilliant at all, but I can't cancel. We simply have to wait out."

Waiting out sucks. Tuesday we literally get five minutes together, but he sure makes those minutes count and I pray I'm not visibly flushed when I leave his office. Late in the evening when he comes home from yet another business dinner we talk over the phone again. Actually, he calls me already in the cab home. He is in a good mood after a few glasses of wine and a fruitful business discussion and his voice is shamelessly flirtatious, doing all sorts of things to my insides. He keeps talking as he unlocks his door and enters his house, goes to the kitchen to prepare himself a hot cocoa admitting he sometimes has a late-night sweet tooth, brings it up to his bedroom, multitasks changing into a t-shirt whilst still talking, causing me hot flushes picturing him doing so, tucks himself under the duvet and then we talk for another hour or so. In a way, this is nice because we actually get to do some talking in contrast to when we have a moment behind closed doors and cannot keep from kissing frantically.

"I really like this, talking to you", I admit sleepily. I'm in my bed too, sitting propped up against the headboard.

In fact I _love_ talking to him but I'm not comfortable using too strong words when everything is so new.

"Me too. I was longing to call you all through dinner. I nearly sneaked away to the toilet to give you a call, but I feared I might not be able to hang up then", he chuckles, and the sound makes me feel warm all over. I love his voice over the phone, the way it sounds like him but slightly different, private somehow. As if we had a secret, which we do come to think of it.

"I was feeling a bit low before but talking to you I feel so much better."

"It wasn't over me I hope? For not seeing you? You _know_ I want to see you more than anything, right?" he asks, now with alarm in his voice.

"I know, and it wasn't about you. Believe it or not, not everything in my life circles around you."

I tease him, but it is also true. Feeling low has nothing to do with him not being able to see me. Even if I'm slightly frustrated we cannot have our date until Friday, all I feel when I think of Charles right now is happiness. He is not the issue tonight.

"You worry about Anna."

Maybe it doesn't take a genius to guess, yet I appreciate that he can read me. Anna's surgery is due tomorrow and I cannot stop thinking about it. Charles is on my mind nearly all my awake time despite that I just told him that is not the case, but simultaneously I think about Anna and how she is coping.

"I do. I think about her lumpectomy tomorrow and how she said she is scared of what they will find once they start the procedure. She is afraid they will discover it is worse than the scans let on, that she will die and leave Malcolm and the kids behind. I can't do much about any of that, but I wish I could be there to hold her hand."

I feel choked talking about it and cannot keep it from my voice, my flirty mood suddenly evaporated. He seems to immediately register the shift in me, also changing from seductive to serious.

"I know you do, and she is lucky to have a friend like you. Malcolm will for sure be there to hold her hand and she knows we are thinking about her. I worry about her too and I wish I could be there and hold _you_ right now."

I wish that too and his voice is so comforting and filled with compassion that it makes me feel like crying even more than before and I stupidly start sniffling.

"Are you crying?"

"I can't help it. She means so much to me."

"I wish I was with you Molly."

"So do I."

He is silent for a moment and I hope he does not feel the whole situation is awkward. Some men apparently find crying women difficult to cope with and I don't know him well enough to know what he is like.

"Tell me about her, how she came to be so much more than just an ordinary boss to you."

That is a welcome distraction and I tell him about how Anna once found the 18-year-old me, sitting on the curb drunk and crying, and was kind enough to stop and ask how I was, then even kinder to offer me a job when she found out my boyfriend had cheated on me with my best friend and I had nowhere to run to escape my shitty life. I tell him how she has taught me basically everything. Not only the job, but how to dress, talk with confidence and not behave like a doormat for people to tread on, and how she always keeps pushing me to develop even when I wish she would not. I feel I have her to thank for the way my life is now, even for meeting _him_ in the first place and then making up the night of the benefit because she set us up to meet there. Anna is like my mentor, friend and fairy godmother combined.

When I come to that part, I'm interrupted by the doorbell. The unexpected sound at this late hour makes me jump where I half-sit in my bed.

"Sorry, I just have to check who is at the door."

"Careful so it isn't some lunatic at this hour", he warns.

"I have a peephole."

I hope it is not Alex pestering me with his presence again. I'm so not in the mood for another argument with him. I tiptoe to the door because I don't want the person on the other side to hear me, look through the peephole and am shocked by the sight of _him_, phone still to his ear but putting it down when the door swings open.

"What are you doing here? You were home, in bed with your cocoa. How?"

My heart thumps wildly from surprise and happiness. I hope I look okay in my far from fancy cotton pyjamas.

"I couldn't stay there when you were sad", he smiles apologetically.

As if he ever would need to apologize for being here.

He steps into me and resolutely pulls me to him, wrapping his strong arms around me and it feels so incredibly right. I rest my cheek to his chest for a while, then we close the door and together return to my bed as soon as he has ridded himself of his coat. I _love love love _that he is here, that he came here for me. We lie down on the bed just holding each other close, because that is what I need tonight, and he knows it. Having him here makes me even more emotional and I'm unable to hold my tears back and just let them stream down my cheeks to gently be wiped away by him. Even if I'm crying, I feel so much better now than before. In his arms I'm completely safe and I feel like everything may go well with Anna.

"Thank you for coming. I can't believe you're here."

He holds me even closer and I feel the warmth of his breath.

"I can assure you it is my pleasure and what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn't come? I wanted to already before, but it was so late and to be honest I thought it for the best not to sleep together before the date. I guess I worried a bit about not being able to just _sleep_ together."

He just called himself my boyfriend.

He kisses me softly and we snuggle up, me in pj's, he in the t-shirt and joggers he threw on before going here. He positions himself behind me, spooning me and begins stroking my hair tenderly. Tonight, is not the night when we will have sex even if we deep down want it, because I'm more in need of comfort and that is what he came to offer. He is here and that means the world to me. We don't even talk anymore, right now completely content only feeling each other close. Our breaths fall into the same pace, our bodies rising and falling with it, inhaling and exhaling slower and slower until I fall asleep.

It feels just as lovely to wake up next to him the following morning. To become conscious and realise he is here, warm and firm, still holding me. I do not want to move, trigger the day and end this loveliness, but then my alarm goes off and he stirs and soon has to leave. He is supposed to have an out of office meeting with some VIP business partner all day and has to take a cab home to get changed to a more suitable outfit before work commences.

"I think they would be a tad surprised if I appeared in joggers and t-shirt", he says with a wry smile, raking his hand through his curls. He is so incredibly sexy in the morning, in that white V-neck t-shirt and hip-hugging joggers and I wish he could stay but know that he cannot.

"Promise you call or text me as soon as you hear any news about Anna."

Cupping my face, he looks me deep into the eyes and I know he is concerned too, both for her sake and mine. His lips touch mine, soft and warm before he leaves, and I feel like that touch and his words can carry me through the day. I will not see him again until tomorrow and I miss him as soon as the door is closed. How is it possible to become dependent of one person so quickly? I'm not sure if I want him to know if feel that way, or not. I mean, I don't want to seem needy but at the same time I really want him to know how much he means to me.

I'm anxious about Anna all day but not until in the late afternoon I finally get much-awaited news from Malcolm.

"It is over, and it went well. The tumour had not spread more than the scans indicated, and they have successfully removed it. She will go through radio therapy as planned of course, but it looks very positive. We are so lucky she discovered it early. You can come visit in a few days if you like."

It is like a heavy weight is removed from my chest and I let out a big sigh of relief. She is fine, or she will be at least, I don't need to hold my breath anymore.

* * *

Thursday my mood is back on top. Only one long day to go until our date and now when I know Anna will be alright I long for it more than ever. Charles is back in the office today and whenever he passes by we exchange secret glances and I feel my breath hitch because I want him so much and still struggle to grasp he wants me too. When Georgie smirking informs me that he needs my assistance to go through some agreements Anna had left for him to finish, I have to hold back not to sprint into his office. This time when I enter he remains seated in his chair and with a mischievous smile just jerks his head to beckon me to come closer.

"Come here."

With butterflies in my stomach I walk over and sit down next to him, leaning against the top of the desk, hoping I look more nonchalant than I feel.

"I missed you all day. Even when I _saw_ you, because I couldn't touch you." He strokes with his fingers over the knuckles of the hand I have placed closest to him, grasping the table top. It makes my skin prickle.

He pushes back his chair but instead of pulling me down into his lap, he stands up in front of me. Merely having his tall, lean frame close to me when we are alone, and the whiff of his aftershave send sparks of electricity trough my body.

"I might have missed you too." I reach out my hand to brush over his cheek, touch his locks. Amazed I'm allowed to do that now.

"Just 'might'?" he pouts, looking absolutely boyishly adorable, then attempts moving closer and positioning himself between my legs, but my tight pencil skirt prevents it.

"Okay, I _have _missed you like crazy and right now I'm really regretting my choice of skirt because obviously it doesn't allow you to come as close as I want you to."

He bursts into laughter and his eyes are a warm chocolate brown.

"I think I can work with that."

Palms on my hips he shifts me slightly, so I sit fully on the desk. Then, slowly, he lets his hands slide up the outside of my thighs, bringing she hem of the skirt with him, hoisting it higher up, inch by inch and I hold my breath as he does. The fabric slides up quite easily over my nylons, though wishing I was not wearing those so he could touch my bare skin. Gently he pushes my legs open, so he is able stand there, then circles my waist with his hands and pulls me snugly to him.

"You see, that went well", his voice triumphant as if he has worked a miracle.

"Oh, I think it did. It was a quite collaborative skirt after all or maybe you're just very skilled at hoisting up skirts. Have you practiced a lot?" I giggle.

"Not really, but maybe the fact that I already have imagined doing this like a hundred times helped. I have practiced in my mind." He breathes softly next to my ear, fanning over my skin, making it heat and I find that dangerously arousing.

"You have been thinking of me on your desk?"

"Oh yes." There is something in his voice which makes me vibrate inside.

Our touches and moves are slow and deliberate and so are the kisses; exploring and deep. My fingers grasp his curls, caress the back of his neck, wander over his muscular back. He holds me to him, then let his hands languorously stray back to my legs, sliding his palms from the knees and up, allowing the thumbs to caress the inside of my thighs higher and higher and I regret even more I'm wearing nylons. Just for a second, he applies some light pressure where my thighs meet. I gasp, and my eyes flutter shut because it feels _so_ good, but he moves on to cup my buttocks again and press me to him. He keeps kissing me, his tongue simultaneously soft and demanding swirling in my mouth. I want him so badly and I can feel how turned on he is too. This is amazing but frustrating because I want _more_, and I moan into his mouth.

"Hush, Molly. Someone could hear us", he smirks but I can see that his pupils are dilated with want when our eyes meet.

"I want you", I boldly whisper, not sure where the words emerged from.

"Don't tempt me", he groans. "I want you so much, but not here, not like this. I have said I'm taking you on a date. I want to show you I'm boyfriend material not just the shagging playboy you took me for."

"If I tell you I already believe that?"

"I want it anyway", he insists smiling. "I don't want to miss out om the thrill of dating you before taking you to bed."

"You already have", I point out looking at him with large eyes and batting my eye lashes.

"This is different though. A second start of something _real_. I don't want to throw that away."

Neither do I in all honesty but it is difficult when he is so incredibly hot. Especially when he is trying to do what he thinks is right like some bloody gentleman. I feel a very strong urge to seduce him.

"Then you should stop."

"I know."

His voice is hoarse, and he keeps holding me as firmly as before and I feel his erection pressed to my thigh. I enjoy the feeling immensely, but that is not the place where I want it most. I think it is very unfair that he is making me long so desperately and I want to make sure he feels the agonizing need as much as I do, so I reach down and touch him lightly, find the definitive hardness covered by his suit pants and get another groan in response. Our touches remain unhurried and romantically soft yet turning me on to the point of torture.

"We _must _stop", he says, with lips now leaving a hot trail along my neck and without conviction in his voice. Neither of us is able to do as he says because we are consumed with need for each other. All I want is to unzip those pants and for him to pull my nylons and knickers off and throw them in the bin and I feel he is losing control too. His breathing is ragged, and his fingers dig into my buttocks in a pleasant way, holding me tight to him.

"This is spinning out of hand Molly, please stop me because I don't know how."  
With nimble fingers he unbuttons a few buttons of my blouse, revealing my white lace bra and now he cups the rounded flesh with his hands, caressing my nipples through the material and they immediately respond. There is no way I would be able to produce a coherent sentence telling him to stop, even if I wanted to.

A light knock on the door abruptly brings us back to reality.

"Sorry boss, I know you are busy going through that paperwork with Molly but your four o'clock appointment is here, Daniel Edwards", Georgie announces, thankfully from the other side of the door.

Charles inhales deeply before answering.

"Tell him I'll see him shortly. We just have to finish up here."

"I will. Take your time by all means."

Even through the door I can hear the amusement in Georgie's voice. I have the feeling she knows exactly what we are up to. Charles looks down on me, his gaze filled with a mix of amusement, desire and fondness.

"Saved by the bell."

I pull in my bottom lip between my teeth and give him what I hope is my most seductive look whilst buttoning my blouse.

"Depends on how you see it."

He laughs with a hint of desperation.

"Christ Molly, do you know how much I want this? I just can't leave you be now when I'm allowed to touch you. It is like my fingers need to be on your skin, my lips touching yours. I want it _all the tim_e."

"Ditto."

We stare at each other breathing heavily and the air is so compact with lust, that the knowledge of Mr. Edwards waiting outside is the only thing that prevents us from clinging to each other again.

"So, what do you say about resuming this tomorrow night? After dinner?"

I can imagine skipping dinner and just do _this_ but if he insists I guess I have to play along.

"Is that what you want to do on our date? Go for dinner?"

"If you don't mind?"

"I don't. I'm happy to do anything as long as I'm with you."

"I reserved table somewhere really nice, but if we can do something else if you want to."

"No, if we are going to do something that doesn't involve horizontal position I'm totally fine with dinner, especially if you already made reservations", I giggle.

Now it his turn to bite his lip and he shakes his head as if he cannot believe the situation he finds himself in.

"Then dinner it is."

He backs away, so I can jump down from the desk. He pulls down my skirt and thoughtfully smooths some creases, before he kisses me gently once more.

"Do you know you are the hottest girl I have ever known? No one has ever made me want to do something like this, abandoning all reason and restraint at work."

"Same here. I don't even recognise myself with you. I never had a one-night stand before you and I never made out in the office either."

He places his hands on my shoulders, slide them down over my back and draws me to him again.

"For the record to me it _never_ felt like a one-nighter and I never wanted it to stay at that."

"Me neither. I just didn't think we had a chance, what with you being Spanish and all."

"I'm terribly glad we got past the one-night stand because I hope there will be many, many nights for us. I'm even happier we got past me being Spanish."

"Now when you are winter pale and speaks this posh English accent of yours I don't know how you ever fooled me." I poke him lightly in the chest and giggle.

"Really?" His eyebrows raise in feigned indignance. Then he dips his head and speaks in low voice so close to my ear that there is a pleasant vibration from lips nearly touching skin. "

"Te quiero."

"What does it mean?"

Not that I ever would forget the dual meaning of that phrase, but I want to hear him say it. Does he mean he _wants_ me, or _loves_ me?

He just smirks.

"That is for me to know and for you to find out, but now I have to kick you out of my office Ms. Dawes and behave like a respectable business man."

I adjust his tie slightly.

"You _are_ a respectable business man Charles James, one of the best I have met, but you _are _working very hard and you're allowed to have some fun too."

Anna and Jackie would laugh their nuts off if they heard me now, echoing their words to me that life is not only about work, but fun too. And love, but I don't say that.

"I guess I am, and I can assure you that intend to enjoy myself to the fullest tomorrow night, that is a promise, but now Daniel Edwards is waiting for me and I know he doesn't appreciate to be kept waiting."

We kiss one last time and then he hands me a stack of papers.

"What is this?"

"I don't know. I just thought it might look like we have been busy doing something work related and respectable", he winks.

His brown eyes twinkle and I'm so in love with this man. How could I ever think I was not?


	22. Bad chemistry

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews, always so appreciated. Someone said they hoped writing does not feel like another chore in my currently busy life. Thank you for the concern but it is quite the contrary. It is a hobby I love and which makes me relax. If I could make a wish, it would be I was allowed to write all day instead of working. For now I appreciate the moments I get.**

**The day we all have been waiting for is finally here, but will things develop the way we hope? Molly and Charles do not know each other very well beyond physical attraction. Is the chemistry between them enough to build a relationship on? Read on and you will see…**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Bad chemistry**

* * *

FINALLY Friday evening is here. Charles has had out of office business meetings all day so when he calls on my door to pick me up it is the first I see of him and I feel strangely nervous. At last we will have a real date, the first one with him being Charles James, not Carlos, and it feels momentous. I sense that he feels the same way and he behaves almost a bit hesitant when I open my door for him, greeting me with a reserved peck on the cheek, shyly saying I look beautiful. Even if I appreciate he does not want to ruin the makeup and hair I have put quite some effort into, I long for a fiery kiss but do not feel confident enough to demand one. The danger with a passionate snog would of course be that we never would get away from here, but would it really harm if that happened now when we finally have this moment? I wish for more than an almost brotherly peck on the cheek, but he seems determined not to do anything that could jeopardise a proper date and after the brief touch of lips to cheek he simply takes my hand, leading me to the waiting cab. He looks so handsome and smells so good that I just want to jump him, but it is like an invisible wall holds me back and I obediently follow him in his tracks to go on the date he has planned. I hope to God his behaviour does not imply he is having second thoughts now when nothing stands between us and a date night.

After a drive when we hold hands but nothing more, we stop outside a restaurant named _Chez Chantal_. I have never heard of it before, but it looks terribly posh and a plaque under the restaurant name informs us it has three Michelin stars. I have not even been to a 1-star restaurant before and I'm not sure what to expect. I would like to ask Charles but feel like I am supposed to know, so I don't.

"Normally one has to wait many months to get a table here, but one of the business contacts I met with this week had a table reserved tonight and wasn't able to make it, so he asked if I wanted it instead of cancelling. I said yes of course. I thought it would be the perfect place for our date."

He seems to think this was a stroke of luck and sounds so proud to have arranged it, but as we enter the restaurant I cannot help wondering if this really is so perfect. Somehow, I get a foreboding that I am to discover I preferred the unpretentious tapas restaurant he picked in Spain to this one. The sparse decoration, with uncanny abstract paintings, ultra-modern furniture and white, crease-free linen table cloths, combined with the obviously trendy and wealthy dinner guests intimidate me. Christ, even the waiters are intimidating, and I feel like they are looking down their noses at me as we are guided to our table. For every step I take, I feel myself shrink. I already doubt that this is a place where I will be able to be the best me, or even a natural me. Anna has taught me to feel comfortable and confident in many environments where I never would have dreamt to fit in when I lived in Newham, but this restaurant is in a different league than most places. The further we step into it, the more I feel like layers are peeled off from me until I'm back to being the Newham girl I once was. I take a deep breath and remind myself I'm so much more than that unpolished and scared little girl now and I'm here with Charles, who really wants to be here with me (I hope). An evening with him could never be bad.

But it _is_. It is a truly terrible dinner. Our table is so large that it feels like he sits miles away. It would never be possible to lean over the table and kiss him, even if I dared. I would _not_ dare though, out of fear for the waiter telling me off. Our waiter is as haughty as if he was royalty and we two peasants who should be grateful to be in his presence. Charles does not seem bothered though. Perhaps he does not even notice the condescending attitude and the sneers the waiter throws in my direction as soon as Charles looks away. With joyful confidence he orders from the extensive menu and wine list and asks if I want him to order for me too. Determined to show my independence I say no but regret it when I open the menu and realise I hardly know what anything is. _Foie gras, Vichyssoise, Pommes dauphinoise, Sole meunière, Tarte Tatin. _It is all like French to me. No wonder, as we are in a French restaurant, but could one not expect an explanation in English if they now claim to be such a fine establishment?

"My name is Sébastien and I will serve you this evening to bring you true culinary delights. Have you visited _Chez Chantal _before?"

I'm startled by the snotty waiter re-appearing by my side out of thin air, speaking with strong French accent which I find hard to understand. I'm totally confused and nowhere near ready to order and I think he knows it, just as he probably can spot from miles distance I have not been here before. He narrows his eyes watching me and I think I see a glimpse of contempt in there. He reminds me of an animal that can smell fear and prepares to attack the weaker prey, only that _he _instead can smell insecurity due to lack of experience of fine dining and knowledge of French vocabulary.

"No, this is our first time." Charles answers with a smile and does not seem the least embarrassed to admit it. Probably because he has been to so many other posh restaurants that this is routine to him. I wonder if his ex, the beautiful blonde Rebecca, would not have been a better company here than me. I hope he will not regret bringing me.

"Then it will be my pleasure to guide you." He does not look like it will be a pleasure at all, I bet that on the inside he is rolling his eyes. "As you can see we focus on the French cuisine, but we are not just any little French bistro. No, no, at _Chez Chantal _we turn all the French classics upside down, inside out. Le Chef de Cuisine, Gaston Benoit, is a culinary genius and one of the world champions of the molecular gastronomy. I promise you, you are in for a true adventure tonight. We will take your palate on a journey it never has experienced before."

Now I'm even more confused. _Molecular astronomy_? He makes it sound like we are in a chemistry lab or an observatory instead of having a meal. I hold back a sigh and panic slightly over the menu. I will not humiliate myself by asking him to explain what the dishes actually are. I simply have to pick something and hope for the best. To my relief there is a set three-course menu named 'The Chef's Choice'. At least three words I understand and also one of the courses seem to be a steak, which should be a safe choice.

"The Chef's Choice sounds intriguing, I'll have that", I say trying to appear confident, feeling anything but. Hopefully I have picked something delicious. Looking at the horrendous prices it had better be bloody awesome. Charles choses three separate courses without hesitation. Apparently his lingual skills stretch to French too and I'm awed and envious at his easiness.

I'm thinking Jackie would die in this restaurant. Not because she would give a fuck about the waiter but seeing since she never wants to try anything unknown when it comes to food. I remember how she dissed a holiday in France based on the food prospects. Suddenly I wish she was here, so we could laugh at this together, the waiter who obviously hates me, the strange menu, the molecular astronomy whatever that means, because in this establishment I'm out of my depth too. I wish I could laugh at it with Charles but I'm not sure he would find it amusing. He seems to take this date so seriously. He orders a bottle of champagne and I do not have it in me to tell him I'm more of a beer and wine gal if I'm allowed to choose. Even if I tremble inside I will do my best to make this a great date and will definitely not whine about the food or drinks. I'm here with him and that is all that matters.

"I will bring your champagne _tout de suît_ and your first appetizer is already on the table", Snotty Sébastien says as he collects the menus.

We both stare dumbfounded at the table because all there is, is a pot with an arrangement of soil and naked twigs. I noticed them already and thought that some flowers would have been nicer but barren twigs seemed totally in line with the rest of the decor.

Impatiently Snotty Sébastien points to the twigs as if we are idiots for not cottoning on immediately.

"It is _eadible_, the twigs _and_ the soil. Not the pot", he sighs, and I know he will roll his eyes as soon as he turns his back to us.

"Have a try", Charles encourages me.

Hesitantly I break a twig and suspiciously taste it, expecting Snotty Sébastien to break into laughter any second because he tricked me, but it turns out to actually be eadible.

"Was it alright?" Charles asks amused when the waiter leaves.

"It was", I admit. "It tastes like grilled chicken."

I take a tea spoon of "soil" and, still hesitant, taste that too. I should _not_ have done that, it tastes awful.

"Yummy", I lie and hurry to swallow to get rid of the taste. _No whining about the food_.

"What is this?" I dare ask when Snotty Sébastien returns with the champagne.

"_Grenouille_."

I know I look like a question mark.

"It is frog's leg, which has been grilled, freeze dried, pulverised and then shaped into these decorative twigs."

His tone of voice suggests we should eat them with reverence. It tastes good, but I'm wondering why go to the trouble of making it look like dry twigs?

"And the soil?" Charles asks and to my relief I notice a barely concealed grimace twisting his face. I was not the only one not appreciating that.

"That is the skin of the frog, freeze dried and carefully dyed to appear like soil, but without any added spices not to spoil its naturally exquisite flavour."

Now I know for sure they are plain mad in this restaurant. Why would anyone voluntary eat frog skin, let alone make an effort to make it look like soil?

My first dish confirms that impression. _La Crevette fraîche et la Mer_, turns out to be one single half-transparent shrimp served on a bed of crushed ice surrounded by little balls containing some green liquid. It does not look tasty, but harmless enough. I assume the shrimp to be boiled, but it is in fact so _fraîche _that when I pick it up to peel the poor pale creature, it turns out to still be alive. It was simply sedated by the cold ice, re-vitalised by the warmth of my fingers and to my dismay starts twitching.

"It's alive!"

"_Oui_", Snotty Sébastien says unsurprised. "No seafood so fresh as a shrimp still alive."

"You seriously mean I should eat it? _Alive_?"

I would for sure prefer a regular shrimp cocktail even if it is very eighties. I hear a snort coming from Charles direction but when I shift my gaze to him, he looks completely serious and like he is looking forward to seeing me eat a living animal. I must have heard wrong.

"You are meant to put it in your mouth whole and chew, _mademoiselle_. You will find its shell to be quite soft, no need to peel it," Sébastien impatiently educates me.

As if _peeling_ would be this issue. The fact that it is alive and kicking is what deters me. Now it wriggles so vividly that I drop it on the floor where it continues to jerk itself out of sight, escaping under the table. I'm simultaneously contemplating if I should try to rescue the poor thing and put it an aquarium or something, wondering how many pounds worth of shrimp that disappeared there and feeling embarrassed because I failed to eat the food served. If a living shrimp can be called _food_. In a way it seems like fraud to me to not even cook the dish that is served. I could put a little shrimp on ice myself and put on the table if that is what is required to be called a gourmet chef.

"I will get another portion for you", the waiter says clearly annoyed.

"No! No, thank you. I'm fine. I'm content with these little balls."

"_Spheres_. They are made in a very complicated process called _spherification_, where our chefs employ sodium alginate and calcium glucate lactate to shape the liquid into a sphere. These spheres are made of sea weed broth and represent _la mer_ in this dish."

I was obviously right, this is chemistry class not dinner. I put one of the spheres in my mouth, it is squishy but then pops so the liquid leaks out on my tongue and tastes like sea water and sea weed. Delicious. Not.

"You were absolutely right, you _are_ taking my palate on a journey it never has experienced before." I'm not lying. I'm just not adding that it is a journey I never want to repeat.

Charles was lucky. His mussles are dead, served in a fake eadible shell, accompanied by chive foam and definitely look tastier, but he got an awfully small portion. More than my three spheres tasting sea though. Well, I assume it was just meant to be a starter. I'm looking forward to my steak because I'm starving.

I do not know if it is the lack or food or the stiff surroundings, but the conversation between me and Charles does not flow easily even when Snotty Sébastien is not there. It is like we struggle to find something to talk about.

"Do you like it, the restaurant?" he asks politely. Right now it is hard to imagine we nearly had sex on his desk yesterday.

"I have never been to a place like this before. I get the _molecular_ thing because there is obviously a lot of chemistry stuff going on in this kitchen, but where does the _astronomy_ come into play?"

"_Gastronomy_, Molly. It is a way of cooking where science is used to reconstruct food in unexpected ways", he patiently explains, and I feel stupid.

I want to joke and laugh or have a deep conversation about something that matters, or simply flirt, but I feel unable to come up with anything witty to say. Instead I look around in the room, hoping for something to comment on. I notice how beautiful and important everyone looks. Like Charles, but not like me. Like that guy in the corner I'm quite sure I have seen on TV or that gorgeous blonde girl in a white dress which shows off every curve of her body which is very slender except for the prominent boobs. Strange, it looks like she is coming our way.

"Charlie! Imagine to run into _you_ here! It has been ages."

Charlie? He is so not a Charlie. I remember how he told Georgie not to call him that. I notice that Charles' body stiffens but then he gets to his feet and peck her on the cheek.

"Rebecca. How are you?"

Oh. Rebecca.

I stare at the long-legged, deer eyed vision in front of me. Some people look plain in real life but are photogenic and look amazing in photographs. Charles ex-girlfriend looked amazing in the photos I have seen, but breathtakingly stunning in real life. Seeing her, part of him must for sure regret walking out on her. Is the reason that he does not want others to call him Charlie that _she _used to? Are his memories of her fonder than he let on?

"I have missed you." She pouts her perfect lips. "You just disappeared on me."

"We broke up", he answers flatly, which I appreciate.

"_I _never wanted that", she bats her long eyelashes intimately putting a hand on his jacket lapel and I flinch even if I'm not the one she is touching. "It really has been too long. We should catch up sometime. Soon."

"Err, well, maybe. Anyway, this is Molly. Molly, Rebecca and I used to date."

Only now she seems to notice me, and I can see that she does not like what she sees. I register that he did not define our relationship and her presence really disturbs me. Compared to her I feel like a nobody. Her cold gaze travels over me and I feel like I'm measured, coming out short.

"Hi", I say weakly reaching out my hand but let it fall limply when she does not take it, instead turns to Charles again.

"Anyway, now that you are back in the city you should really come for brunch or drinks with the others sometime."

"I don't know…"

She shamelessly leans closer to him and whispers loudly, so I can hear it.

"I would love if you did, I promise I would make it worth your while."

He takes a step back and sits down.

"Thanks, I'll think about it. I 'm occupied now though so I think we have to catch up another time Becs."

"Is that a promise?" she coos.

"Eh... Becs, I'm having dinner with Molly right now. It's not the time for making other plans, okay?"

"Okay, okay…" she starts moving away but mimics a telephone with her hand. "Call me", she mimes indiscreetly.

I can't believe how she is coming on to him right in front of my eyes, but it confirms my impression that I'm nothing to her, just like I'm probably nothing to others in this restaurant. I swallow hard. We stay silent for a moment as she disappears to another part of the restaurant, thankfully out of sight.

"Will you call her?"

"What?" He looks surprised.

"I was wondering if you will call her. You didn't say you wouldn't, and you didn't say _we_ are on a date either. So, will you?"

Seriously he looks me straight in the eyes.

"Of course not. I didn't want to be too impolite but there is no fucking way I'm calling her. I didn't want anything to do with her and her friends before and I certainly don't now either. I'm with you. It is just none of her damn business and honestly I didn't want to waste my breath on her. Do you even have to ask?"

Now he smiles widely, the most wonderful disarming smile. For a minute there I felt like I had to, ask, but his words and that smile make a glowing warm ball form inside my chest.

"She is very beautiful", I still persist, fidgeting with my napkin.

"She is, but not like you and she doesn't make me feel like you do."

Our eyes remain locked and for the first time this evening we have a moment when sparks are flying around us and things feel _right_.

"_Steak tartare à la Chez Chantal_", Snotty Sébastien announces interrupting the magic. I look down and imagine my surprise when he instead of a lovely big steak puts down a plate with what appears to be raw minced meat formed like a cube, topped with an equally raw egg yolk.

"I thought I ordered a steak?" I protest weakly. Don't they cook anything in this restaurant? Will the meat start to wriggle too? Horrible thought. I think it would turn me vegetarian for the rest of my life.

"Steak tartare is the same as beef tartare, don't you know what that is?" Charles asks me.

"Obviously not because then I wouldn't have ordered it." I didn't mean to sound snappy but I'm feeling a bit desperate here. This dinner is really starting to get to me. "Are they seriously serving _raw_ meat?"

"Steak tartare is a…" Snotty Sébastien starts.

"…classic French dish I assume?" I interrupt.

"_Oui, exactement_, though we have re-invented it at _Chez Chantal_", he says with hurt voice. Great, now I have offended him. He will for sure spit in my next dish.

"Don't you like _cooking_ the food in this restaurant?" I can't help asking.

"Have a taste", Charles tries to meddle. "Steak tartare actually tastes great when you combine the meat with the condiments, the different textures, soft and crispy usually marry very well."

Now he sounds like a patronising snob and I suddenly feel like he and the wretched waiter are teaming up on me. In addition to raw meat and egg yolk, I got shallots, gherkins, capers and some kind of mustard sauce (again in sphere shape, they seem to have a hang-up on that) and it is all arranged on a square plate in a very artistic manner.

"Is it safe to eat raw meat? I could get a parasite or bacteria of some kind?"

"It is beef, so it is quite safe", Charles assures me.

Reluctantly I have a try with the two of them staring expectantly at me. It is quite good actually, I must admit but I still wish they had fried the meat. In the end I finish the plate, but it is literally done in four bites and I'm just as hungry as I was before. Charles had ordered sole which looks delicious and comes with an _air_ smelling like the ocean, but his portion is tiny this time too. Isn't he disturbed by that considering what the meal costs?

Famished as I am, my only hope now stands to the desert and I wish for it to come quick, so we can finish this disastrous dinner even if I'm starting to despair, thinking Charles will want us to go our separate ways after an evening like this. Or is it only me thinking this is a really bad date where the chemistry is lacking except in the kitchen?

"I think you ordered _Tarte aux pommes_ for desert. It means apple pie, so probably something you will feel more comfortable with", Charles tries to comfort me. I'm disappointed at myself for not having managed to pretend I enjoy the meal more than I do. Then Sébastien puts down the final plates in front of me.

"Wait, I thought I ordered apple pie."

This time they _clearly _must have gotten it wrong. This is _nothing_ like apple pie.

"This _is_ _Tarte aux pommes _or apple pie as you call it", Sébastien says haughtily before he spins around and leaves. "_Deconstructed_ apple pie, a speciality of the house."

In disappointed disbelief I stare down at the dish. I'm so, so hungry and now it turns out not even desert is what one could expect in this place. I don't know if I dare to eat it because it looks like another piece of modern art, different textures and sauces splashed over the ceramic oval plate. I'm not sure if it looks very tasty though, more like someone has eaten an apple pie and then vomited. I look up and find Charles watching me intently. There is a twitch at the corner of his mouth and suddenly he throws his head back and laughs out loud.

"Molly, your expression is priceless right now. I wish you could see it."

He continues to laugh, unable to stop now that he has started, and tears emerge in his eyes. Slowly I feel my own face crack up in a grin and I burst into fits of laughter too. We keep laughing and laughing until my stomach hurts. At the corner of my eye I can see Sébastien sneering at us, but frankly I couldn't care less. For the first time since we entered this restaurant I'm feeling that we are having a great date.

"I don't understand why anyone would want to _deconstruct _an apple pie, so it looks like this. Why? An apple pie is already perfect as it is, but this... I don't even know if I'm supposed to eat it or just look at it? Did someone already chew it and spit it out again?"

"Or eat it all together and vomit on the plate?" he pants before bursting into laughter again. I'm so happy he thinks the same thing I do. It means I'm not the only sane person in here.

"You were clearly the lucky one."

He looks at his tiny ball of sherbet covered by an exquisite cage made of a sugar net.

"I admit it looks better than yours, but it is so _little_, and I don't know how to eat it." He wipes away another tear. "This is beautiful but I'm starving. I have had enough of this pretentious shit. What do you say about go grabbing a burger instead? It is probably considered blasphemy but honestly I don't care."

"Thought you'd never ask. I was beginning to fear you always ate like this and my life would be a living hell food-wise if I was to keep dating you. I know this is fancy and expensive… but I don't like it very much. Sorry."

He reaches out, takes my hand and laces our fingers. His hand is warm, safe and thrilling. The sensory cells in my palm jump with joy, the best feeling.

"I really want to keep dating you Molly, but I _don't _want to keep eating like this, so you have nothing to fear in that regard. This isn't my style. I wanted to take you somewhere really nice but this..." He laughs apologetically and shakes his head, and I squeeze his hand. It is such a relief to hear him say this. "You want to finish your desert?"

"I normally never say no to desert but please, let's go. I crave food, not some pansy experiment."

More than anything I crave being with him where we do not feel stiff, inhibited and unnatural.

"Then, let's get out of here. Right this moment."

Rarely has anything felt as good as leaving this restaurant with his hand on the small of my back like a promise of more touches to come.


	23. A star-crossed date and sparks

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but much of my energy is going into my new job and the house move which finally happened last week. Also got caught up in Sanditon and was depressingly disappointed by the last episode. Had already started a fanfic by then and will have to continue that to rectify the disastrous end. (It is on my blog if anyone wants to read anything else than OG fanfics.)**

**Anyway, now over to the rest of the date…**

**In case you wondered, yes that shrimp dish (minus the spheres) has existed in a restaurant I do not intend to name.**

**This second part of this chapter is M-rated so read on at your own risk, but I certainly hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 23: A star-crossed date… and sparks**

* * *

When we leave the horrendous _Chez Chantal _behind I let go of the breath I was not aware I was holding, and I feel better by the minute as Charles takes my hand and holds on to it when we walk. The December air is cold and crisp, much different from the warm evening when we first held hands in Nerja, but I feel just as good about it now. Showing affection out in the open makes me feel like we are a couple for real. He adapts his long stride to my shorter step and keeps looking down on me with a cute smile, probably a copy of the silly one that has stuck on my face. If I wasn't so damn hungry I would immediately pull him into a cab, bring him home to my bed and shag him all night long.

We agree to pick the nearest decent looking pub, out of famished desperation. Compared to the sterile restaurant, this pub is delightfully noisy, cluttered, warm and cosy and we gratefully sit down in a booth. Here he does not feel distant, our knees bump into one another under the table and his hands search for mine as soon as we have ordered.

"Can you smell that?" I smirk and sniff with nose up in the air.

"What?"

"It smells food. Proper food. It seems they are actually _cooking_ their dishes in this place. Can you imagine?"

He grins at me in return.

"Now I don't know why I didn't pick somewhere more relaxed from the start. I wanted it to be special, but I should have known no fine dining is needed. With you it is special anyway, I really loved our date in Spain."

"I'm glad we're starting over. I felt like I couldn't be myself in that place because everyone was looking down their noses at me and I was afraid to make a mistake - which I did. I still wonder about that poor shrimp."

"That was terrible, the only fun thing about it was your reaction. I was dying of laughter."

"Really?"

"... on the inside."

"I wished you had shared it. I felt like you and Snotty Sébastien teamed up on me."

"_Snotty_ Sébastien?"

"That's what I called our friend the waiter."

"I wish you had shared _that_."

"I wasn't sure you would take it well. You seemed so serious about it all."

"I was... am. I wanted it to be perfect. Just that _that_ was nowhere near perfect. _This_ is. This is all I want. Anywhere where we can be ourselves is good."

I feel myself beaming at him.

"And as for anyone looking down their noses, I think they looked at you because you are beautiful. At least I can't get enough of looking at you tonight." It could have come out cheesy, but he sounds too sincere for that and after the ghastly prelude I just love it.

Our burgers and chips arrive and mine tastes so good it almost makes me cry. We eat, have a few beers, talk, laugh and laugh some more and I'm having the best time when Charles' phone rings. He takes a look at the screen and looks surprised, then excuses himself and answers.

"Hi Elvis. Didn't expect to hear from you, thought you were in some godforsaken place with no connection"

He looks at me with an apologetic smile.

""You're home?

Now surprised.

"If I can meet for drinks tonight? No, sorry, I'm busy."

He winks at me, giving me a sexy look which makes my insides twist.

"Yes, that _is_ the sound of a pub in the background, but you can't join."

Explaining in patient voice...

"No, I'm serious. I won't tell you where I am anyway."

...turning a bit annoyed. I wonder if he will be able to convince Elvis to hang up anytime soon? I want him back all to myself.

"Have you forgotten I'm SF? I know how to find you if I want to", a deep male voice says next to us, making both jump. We look up to find a very good-looking guy standing beside us. Looking slightly shocked Charles puts down his phone, apparently there is no need for it anymore. Elvis squeezes himself in on the seat beside me and nicks one of Charles' chips.

"For fucks sake Elvis! You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here?"

"Is that the way to welcome a long-lost friend? How about 'nice to see you Elvis'?"

"Not when you're crashing my date."

"Oh, you're on a date?"

He turns to me with a cheeky smile, then reaches out his hand.

"I'm Elvis, Charles' best friend even if he doesn't treat me like it right now. I suppose you're Molly?" When I nod he adds; "Charles has told me so much about you."

I may not like that Elvis is crashing our date, but I like that Charles has talked to him about me and that Charles' cheeks now are turning adorably pink. Elvis is also very charming I must admit.

"How did you find me Elvis?"

"Easy. Last time we met I amused myself trying out a little tracker device on your phone. Thought it may come in handy for a surprise visit at some point."

"Is that even legal? I certainly don't appreciate being tracked."

"Calm down, mate. Isn't it great that I found you?

Elvis shrugs his shoulders and waves a waitress to order three beers. I get the feeling he does not plan to leave anytime soon. My heart sinks because even if I want to get to know Charles' best friend and Georgie's fiancé at some point, tonight is not that moment. I want to be alone with Charles and we were getting along so brilliantly just now. Judging by Charles' charcoal black eyes and clenched jaw he feels the same. Worst is, I think Elvis knows it and finds it terribly amusing. It is not that he cannot read the signals, he simply ignores them.

Charles tries another angle.

"If this is your first night home, why aren't you with Georgie?"

"I wanted to surprise her, so I hadn't told her I was coming. Turned out she had gone off to some spa with a friend and won't be home until tomorrow evening. Then I thought I could see my second favourite person. Or my third, mom is the second."

When Charles just stares back at him without seeming grateful for the praise, Elvis adds as explanation;

"_You_ Charlie, you are my third favourite person."

"I appreciate that, but as you can see I had other plans."

"You see Molly every day at the office, seeing _me_ is a rare opportunity."

Elvis has downed his first beer and happily orders a second. It is obvious that he does not intend to leave, so I suppose we just have to make the best of it.

He is a very attractive guy, Italian, with dark hair and brown eyes. Same colours as Charles, yet very different. Charles is strikingly handsome and chiseled like an ancient classic sculpture, Elvis is more like the male protagonist in a daytime soap, extremely good-looking but cheesy. I can imagine that he has had his fair share of female attention before he settled for Georgie. Their appearances are very matching, and they must make a beautiful couple together. I get the impression there is a sharpness underneath the surface which Georgie lacks though. I think he is very intelligent behind the looks and cheekiness and the jokes and teasing is a clever way of interrogating me to check if I'm good enough for his best mate. To my relief I get the feeling that I pass the test and realise that even if he is annoying, I quite like him.

After half an hour in his company I'm actually warming to him and have fun, but Charles still looks like a thunder cloud.

"Why so sad my friend?"

Charles decides to try honesty as a last resort.

"You hi-jacked our first date, Elvis. No matter how much I like you, we had really been looking forward to this night. Alone. That is why I perhaps look sad."

Elvis cheeky grin fades and for the first time he looks serious, but not offended.

"Why didn't you tell me it was your first date? I thought you had reached that point long ago."

"Eh, no."

Elvis turns to me.

"Molly, I'm truly sorry for crashing your first date. If it was your second, I would have no qualms", he says with earnest but finishes off with a smirk like he cannot stay serious for long.

"Charlie you know I love you like my brother from another mother and Molly it was a pleasure to meet you, but I suddenly remembered I have engagements elsewhere, so you'll have to excuse me."

He leans over and pecks my cheek, stands up and pats Charles' shoulder.

"See you soon. Have a good night", he winks and is gone as quick as he came.

Stunned we stare at each other smiling. Was it really that easy, all of a sudden? All it took was honesty.

"You want another beer?" Charles asks.

"No, thank you."

"Anything else?"

"To be honest, I'd prefer if you took me home."

His face drops in utter disappointment. I lean over the table and place my palm to his cheek, loving the feeling.

"I'd love of you took me home _and_ stayed with me, I mean. This has been a lovely date but now I would like to be alone - with you."

His eyes turn dark, he catches his bottom lip between his teeth in the way I find so adorable, then nod.

"I'd like that very much too."

"Well then, let's go."

* * *

When we step out on the street to find ourselves a cab, he puts his arm around my shoulders and I fit myself into his side. It is amazing how perfectly we fit together even though he is so much taller than me.

"My place or yours?"

"Yours if you don't mind, I love your house." I also love his big comfy bed with Egyptian cotton sheets.

"The one I'm not anything like?" His tone is slightly provoking and amused, reminding me of my unkind words the night of his party. Words I feel ashamed to have said now when I know they must have hurt him.

"Not at a first glance, but once I got to know you, I see that you're much like your house; so nice that I don't want to leave."

"So, if you love my house, and I'm like my house – should I deduce that you love me too?" His lips are pressed to the top of my nut and I cannot see his expression. The question is light, but I get the feeling he seriously would like to know. I don't feel ready to say that yet though and I'm not sure how he would react if I did.

"Not 100% sure what deduce means but it sounds to me like you're being a bit previous. Let's just say it is a place where I like to be and you're a person I enjoy being with. Very much. As long as you don't take me to any more Michelin star restaurants."

"I'll settle with that. For now." He laughs and pulls me towards the cab he just hailed.

I notice that he fumbles a bit with the keys when he unlocks the door. Is it a sign of nervousness or just excitement? I know _I_ feel equal measures of both.

The first time we spent the night together in Spain we had nothing to lose. Now we have travelled towards this moment on winding paths for many months, building up the tension and this time it _really_ matters. I want to be with him beyond carnal lust. I want to be with him because I'm in love with him and I want to be his with everything that is me.

He takes my coat and put on a hanger. Turning to me again he clears his throat.

"Can I get you anything? Wine, water, tea, milk?" He is definitely nervous, like me.

"No thanks, I'm fine." I pause but more words simply slip over my lips; "All I want is you." I should at least finish off with a giggle to make it less serious but find myself unable to and my words are left hanging in the air. Suddenly the tension is palpable.

He pulls in air heavily through his nose and his eyes are like dark, soft velvet. I step closer to him and cup his cheek with one hand, let my thumb stroke softly along his jawline where a raspy stubble has emerged, then trace his lips softly. Still adoring the shape; the combination of a masculine, stern upper lip and a full, utterly kissable bottom lip. He parts them slightly, like in a silent sigh. With the pad of my thumb I pull down the bottom lip a little. Playfully he catches my finger between his lips, sucking it briefly as if it were a lollipop before he slowly lets it go. He holds my gaze, his stare filled with want and the sensation of his mouth closed around my thumb, making it slick with saliva is a surprising turn-on. Maybe because it makes me picture what I want to do to _him_ with _my_ mouth.

"Do you still want to do some more dating? You know, before we...?"

I let my words trail off. I wanted to sound casual or seductive, but my voice comes out weak here in the big hallway and my heart is pounding hard in my chest.

He bites the inside of his cheek, watching me with a burning intensity and let me wait for the answer a few seconds.

"Hell no. I don't think I'm able to wait much longer." He lets out a hoarse laughter.

"Like how much longer?"

"Minutes?" He gives me that bashful smile that makes me weak at the knees, the one that tells me he thinks _he_ is the lucky one, not for a moment thinking himself one of the most eligible bachelors in London .

He ends my agony and closes the small gap between us, cradles my head in his hands and brushes over my lips with his, then transforms the soft touch into a full kiss, all in one fluid move.

First the kiss is light, but quickly turning ferocious. Now he latches his mouth to mine, with more force than finesse but I'm so ready for him and instinctively open up to his eager lips and tongue. This is the kiss I have been longing for all evening. Hard lips, clashing teeth, probing tongues, nothing brotherly or even gentlemanly about it. When he kisses me like this, claiming me, I melt under his touch.

Glued together and ignited, we move so my back is pressed up against the wall, captured by his firm, warm body. It is incredibly intense yet unhurried because we know no one can stop us now. This is like a force of nature, a volcano eruption that has been waiting to happen and when it does it cannot be held back, heat is simply pouring from us. His hands let go of the hair they were fisting and move to my shoulders, travel languorously down my arms, clasp my hands to then bring them with him upwards again, pinning them above my head. Not too hard, only assertive enough to make it thrilling. He holds me like that, whilst our lips stay locked. I am exposed to his burning touch and hungry gaze yet feel safe and incredibly turned on. I love that passion over-rides his gentleman manners and I feel that just like our first night. I too let go of everything that normally holds me back, every thought of what a nice girl should do and not do vanished from my mind. I don't think at all, I _feel_ and do what I feel like doing.

Still pinning my hands above my head with one hand, now shifting his lips to my neck, he lets his other hand move down to cup my buttocks. He presses me tighter to him for a moment, if that is even possible when we were already so close, then slides the hand down my thigh and lift my leg. Instinctively I wrap it around him. Positioned like this, I can undoubtedly feel him hard and ready, but he does not seem to have the intention to do anything about that just yet. Instead he lets go of my leg and lets his fingers teasingly trail up the soft skin on the inside of my thigh. Tonight, I'm wearing a wider skirt than the other day and underneath stockings, so he easily moves towards my knickers. He teases for some time, caressing up and down my thigh before he softly runs his fingers along my core on the outside of the underwear. I throw my head back in pleasure, subjecting myself to that sensation and the touch of his hot lips along the length of my neck. Moans escape me. Even though his touches are slow and deliberate, I sense an urgency in him beneath the apparent patience to now reach where he wants. Next moment he tugs on the waistband of my knickers, then dips his hand inside. I literally jolt with pleasure at the first light touch, bury my fingers in his locks and hold him to me. I had nearly forgotten how good he is, or thought my imagination exaggerated his talents in this area, but this... I'm lost for words. His fingers play me, caressing and circling on the outside until I want to scream for more and only then, as if he knows I'm on the verge of a meltdown of desire, there is more. First slowly, tantalizing, just barely being _there_. Then further inside, tapping the perfect spot, gradually more intensively. I feel myself writhing, meeting his fingers, grinding uninhibited against him and I hear foreign sounds leaving my lips. Mostly incoherent noises of pleasure, the only words said;

"Don't stop, don't stop."

"What? Do you mean this?" He let his hand become slack to tease me.

"Yes, that! Don't stop, please."

He chuckles at my forwardness, move his lips back to my mouth resuming the kissing and the hand picks up its deft administrations, wondrously making a fire spread inside me until every nerve is alight and I convulse. The uncontrollable tremor lasts amazingly long and is almost too much to bear. I moan into his mouth, still twitching. He moves more leisurely, stay like that until my pulse slows down, my body relaxing, heavy but held up by him. His lips remain pressed to mine, now soft, still, smiling. He gives me another gentle kiss as he slowly brings down my hands from above my head and removes his other hand, making me feel empty. Only for a moment until he wraps his arms around me, holding me close to him.

"Come, let's go to the bedroom. I just couldn't resist trying to make you come before we went up. Consider it a welcome gift."

"Who says you succeed?" I smile lazily, right now feeling sated yet strangely seductive.

He raises a sardonic eyebrow and a chuckle escapes him.

"I think we both know I did."

I feel myself blushing even if there is no reason to.

He takes my hand again and like kids we run upstairs, to his bedroom. This time we have no intention to wear clothes in bed. I crave his bare skin now, crave his body uncovered. His suit jacket is quickly discarded and with fingers fumbling with impatience I unbutton his shirt. Finally, I have his bare chest before me again, perfectly level with my face and I immediately have to place a trail of kisses over those taut muscles, follow the hard line of the collarbone, nuzzling into the hook of his neck whilst letting my tongue flick and now it is his time to groan. When I look up in his face, his want is written there.

I'm overwhelmed with the wonder that his body is to me; the form of him, the taste, his scent, the feeling of his soft skin. My hands find their way under his shirt, around his back, let my fingers smooth over the surfaces and trace the column of his spine. For a while he stays still, enjoying with closed eyes, accepting only being the taker, but when I finger around the waistband of his trousers he is triggered to move again. Like he has a need to participate more actively, needs to take control. He catches my hands and let his fingers lace with mine and pulls my arms, so they surround him again and kisses me deeply. I cannot see myself ever getting enough of this.

His shirt comes off, the trousers follows quickly and then he reaches around my back to unzip the dress and expertly undo my bra and let it fall to the floor. With ragged breaths we face each other, him dressed in white cotton boxers, me in my nicest pair of lace knickers and take each other in for a few seconds, almost reverently without touching one another. Then he takes my hand and pulls me to the bed. Have I said I love this bed? The way it is so big we can roll around, shift who is on top, kissing, giggling. I love to feel the length of his warm body pressed to mine, the way his large hands roam over my back, my thighs, find the cheeks of my bum and hold me to him so his form is perfectly fitted to my form through the fabric of our underwear, driving me insane with need. I want him, want him so badly. Simultaneously we decide we have waited out more than long enough and tug on the underwear, making the process short before we both are totally nude. I have dreamed of this but did not think I would have it again. Have _him_ again.

Holding his weight on his arms not to crush me, he eases himself inside me with gaze intensely locked in mine. I almost let out a sob of fulfilment. It feels so completely right and so amazingly good and we have not even moved yet. He stays still like that, strokes my hair softly, gently brushes his lips over mine and I feel him deep inside, filling me, warm and hard. I wrap my legs around him to draw him in even deeper and then as on a given sign we move together. We keep looking into each other's eyes except when our lips stray to the heated skin on earlobes, necks, collarbones, breasts, nibbling and nuzzling. We are serious now, caught up in the passion of the moment, moving faster and harder until we trembling succumb to the unbelievable pleasure and come undone crying out each other's names. How is it even possible that it can be like this? That I can fit with someone like I fit with him. I was mad to think there ever could be anyone else after _this_.

We stay joined until our chests stop heaving and we almost reluctantly separate an inch. Now we laugh, feeling the lightness that follows the release but no wish to sleep yet. We let our hands continue caressing softly, drawing patterns on skin, circle nipples, smooth over soft hairs, finding the way further down again, around, inside and the wonder starts all over, again and again until we finally fall to sleep entwined in each other's arms.

* * *

**A/N: I think there will be one or two more chapters in this story, but it will likely take some time before next one is published. I know some have wondered why I bother writing another story and don't just focus on finishing this one first, but as this is so completely AU it takes quite some effort making up the plot and I don't always have the energy for that at the moment, meanwhile some "easier" writing relaxes me. I will not abandon this story though.**

**xxx**


	24. Epilogue: Goodbyes

**Epilogue: Goodbyes**

* * *

I carefully place the pot with my _monstera_ (or my Swiss Cheese plant as Anna used to call it) in the cardboard box that already contains all the other personal stuff I used to have on my desk. Then I look around the open office space and take in the sight of my now empty desk with a lump in my throat. I cannot quite believe it has come to this; that I'm leaving.

My mind keeps spinning.

_Was it a mistake to sleep with my boss?_

_Would I do it again?_

_Do I regret it now that I leave this job that has meant so much to me?_

The answers are; No, yes and no.

Sleeping with Charles (again) is the best thing I have done. I would do it a million times again and haven't regretted it for a split second. It does not prevent me from feeling sad though, now when everything is changing. It does not prevent me from feeling anxiety about what is to come.

There is a soft knock on the door frame. He has come out from his room and stands watching me with those gooey brown eyes that makes me weak at the knees. His handsomeness always sucks the breath out of me even if one could think I would start to get immune by now. He shoves his hands in his suit pants pockets, tilts his head to the side and looks searchingly at me.

"Are you okay Molls?" he asks softly. "I feel bad about making you leave."

"You're not making me leave, you numpty. I choose to." I smile bravely but can feel a few disobedient tears trickle down my cheeks even if my words are true.

"Everyone knows you can't keep working at a job if you have slept with the boss. In the long run it is simply awkward at best. Besides, there wouldn't be a reason to keep me with Anna gone."

"I can think of many good reasons of keeping you close to me." He takes a step closer and keeps his voice low so nobody else hears him.

"Well, there's that but I have a feeling I might distract you from the task at hand."

My tears slow and the smile takes over. He always knows how to make me feel good, no matter what made me feel down in the first place.

"But you promise to keep doing it after the business day is over?" he raises his signature a sardonic eyebrow.

"Of course. Every day... and every night."

There is a glimmer of relief in his eyes, as if this gorgeous man actually doubted I would want to continue our relationship. Hidden by the desk, he discreetly places his hand on my hip. He just lets it rest there, but it is enough to make me feel a bit flushed.

Six months in on our relationship, it is no longer a secret, but we refrain from physical displays of affection at work anyway. I want to at least keep a scrap of my former professionalism and Charles wants to stay a respected boss. A few months ago we shocked the crap out of everyone except Georgie when Charles informed very matter-of-factly at a staff meeting that we are a couple and said that if anyone had any issues with that they should bring it up with him. By now we are old gossip, but still keep a low profile.

"I'll hold you to that promise." He removes his hand and I want it back on my body, where it belongs. I will definitely stay true to my promise.

"Now, I think Anna wanted a word with you. Come by my office afterwards. There's something I want to show you before you leave."

He looks so mischievous when he says this, that I'm still preoccupied trying to figure out what it could be when I enter Anna's office.

Even if she has been back to work part-time for a few months, my heart still makes extra-beat of joy every time I see her there behind her desk, looking like she always did. A fierce business woman with a heart of gold. She has changed though, or rather she realised that her priorities in life are different than she thought they were. Anna has decided that she wants to spend more time with her family. This company is her pride, but she will let Charles keep managing it and remain more in the background herself. She will still have the final say in important decisions, so she is not giving up on her "baby" completely, but she will spend much less time working. Now she, Malcolm and the children are planning a long holiday. She calls it glam backpacking, which essentially means they will travel between a number of luxurious resorts for two months. I doubt there will be a backpack in sight, but I am very happy for her. She deserves this time with her family. They all do.

"Are you okay Molls?"

Funny that she and Charles should ask the same thing, but they and Jackie are after all the people that know me inside and out. The lump in my throat grows. Anna and I will stay friends but this is the end of us working together. She is pleased because I finally decided to take the step she has encouraged me to take for long; to start as a trainee in another firm. She claims it has been years since I exceeded the tasks in the role description for a PA and ought to get it formalized.

I used to be afraid of the change but now everything is changing anyway. She will not be here much, so she will not need me in the capacity of a PA. Charles has Georgie, who actually has stepped up to the plate lately and last but not least, it is far from ideal to date your boss. Georgie and Anna are not bothered, but I can tell that it freaks everyone else out a bit. Like they are afraid I would be spying on them for him. They forget I already knew everything that was going on in this office but I have no intention to go gossiping about it to Charles. Anyway, I think it will be a relief to many when I quit.

I did not make the decision in my own. When Anna offered Charles to make his position permanent and at the same time brought up the traineeship with me for the umpteenth time, we deliberated it _together_. Discussed our options, our future together like a real couple. Of course I knew we were already, after months wonderful non-fancy, uncomplicated and funny dates, long entangled nights, him asking me to move in with him when Jackie announced she would stay in Spain permanently and finally outing it officially at work. However, discussing our joint future in a grown-up, mature way, thinking of what would be best for us both, made me realise that this actually could be _forever_.

_Him and I_.

Next to having sex with him it was the best feeling ever.

"I'm okay. It's just a big step. You know it has meant the world to me working here for you. With you."

"I know, because it is the same for me. To be honest I'm not sure I would have been able to soldier on for this long if it wasn't for you. You have been so much more than my PA. I know you will be their best trainee ever at Pearson's. I told him he should be grateful to have you, not the other way around."

"I doubt it and it's a bit terrifying that you have set the expectations on me so high."

"Stop doubting yourself Molly and you can do anything. I know you even doubted you could go on holiday last year and look where it brought you! Besides, psychology experiments have shown that if people expect great things from you, people actually achieve more. I'm certain you will be brilliant."

"One could argue I was just sleeping my way to the top..."

"We both know that isn't true. You have worked harder than most people I know to get where you are and proved yourself long before Charles popped up. You and Charles, that is pure love, nothing else. You needed that in your life though, to balance your slightly workaholic and controlling side. He has been… no he _is_ good for you. And you for him. I can see that."

"Thank you for pushing me to go on that holiday, otherwise we may never have ended up together."

She frowned her brow pensively.

"I don't know about that. Sometimes I have this silly superstitious feeling that some things are simply meant to be and will happen one way or another. Like it is fate."

This is unlike Anna and normally the pragmatic part of me would protest, but deep inside I feel the same about me and Charles. We were meant to end up together. If he had not faked being a non-English speaking Spanish guy it would have happened easier, now we reached the same destination after a little detour.

"Malcolm wanted me to ask you two to come for dinner when we return from holiday. He wants to hear your fascinating story first hand. He is not pleased with my story telling. He thinks I'm leaving out the juicy details." She rolls her eyes and laughs.

Anna isn't the only one going on holiday. I will have a few weeks off before I start the traineeship. Charles and I will go to Spain. First we plan on visiting Jackie and Manolo in Madrid. Then we will take a road trip down south eating tapas and drinking red wine and have as much sex as possible along the way, then finish off with a few days in Nerja before we fly back home. I am looking forward to it immensely. Even if we always make time for each other despite Charles' busy schedule, it will be wonderful to just enjoy each other twenty-four-seven.

She picks up her Bottega Veneta handbag.

"I'm off to a dinner date with Malcolm now. Please post a few pics on Insta so I get to see how you are enjoying yourselves Spain."

"And you do the same from the Maldives and wherever you go next on your glamorous backpacking trip."

We hug hard and long. Her body is thinner than it used to be, a testament to the fight she has endured. A wipe away a few tears again and so does she. Anna has reminded me how very precarious life is, how quickly it can change. It will take another five years of health check-ups before she is declared fully recovered from the cancer. I am happy she is doing the things she believes will make her most happy. I will do the same.

After one last hug, laughingly reminding each other that this hardly is the last time we will see one another she takes off. The familiar sound of her determined heels disappears towards the lift and it feel like it is the end of an era. First day at work that sound made me terrified straighten my back, now it makes me smile fondly. I will miss it.

The office is almost empty now, but the light in Charles' room is on and it makes me feel stupidly fuzzy inside, like a pink cotton ball. I still feel jubilant every time it hits me that he is waiting for me. That he undoubtedly is mine.

"I'm ready now. All my things are packed and I've said goodbye to Anna. For now."

"Of course it is for now. There's nothing that could keep the two of you apart. You belong together like peas and carrots. In fact, if you had to choose between me and her I'm not sure I would come out as the winner."

"Lucky that I don't have to choose then. Actually I think we are indebted to her, for employing us both and for nudging us in the right direction."

"True. And for forcing you to go on holiday." He smiles that smile that half kills me every time. The other half of me wants to jump him. "We have to invite her to our weddi..."

He bites off the sentence, almost seeming embarrassed even if I understand he just said it in jest. Not that I haven't imagined it about a hundred times or so. _Our wedding_. One day perhaps we will be ready for that conversation but now it is a bit previous.

"Anyway..." He gets up from the chair and run his fingers through his hair. "There was one thing I wanted to show you before we leave."

Now I'm really curious again and forget the wedding topic. What could he possibly want to show me that I haven't already seen in this office? I know it isn't a surprise goodbye party because they already threw me one last week.

Surprises are not my forte, at least not when I'm the one being surprised, but I was able to enjoy it after the first shock had faded and Anna had fed me two Moscow Mules. I wept through her speech, hugged quite a few people I never had considered hugging before and ended up singing karaoke off key before Charles kindly put me and himself in a cab and carried me to bed. I must admit I don't remember the singing clearly but he has been sure to enact my excellent performance of ABBA's 'The winner takes it all' quite a few times to make up for my partial amnesia. I would have kicked him out if the house wasn't his and if I didn't love him so much.

He takes my hand, laces his fingers with mine and looks at me with an expression which is hard to read. It is a strange but adorable combination of naughty boy and horny _and _nervous man. Next, he pulls me with him through the empty office, down the corridor and into... the copy room!

He shuts the door behind us and the soft click tells me he locked it too.

He moves closer and circles my waist with his large hands. My body hums in approval.

"Some dreams are too good to stay just dreams", he mumbles with lips grazing mine.

I told him of the dream and he enjoyed the story _a lot_, but I never thought we would act on it. Old Always-in-control-Molly never would. New Wanton-sex-goddess-Molly, feels a fire between her thighs which only he is able to extinguish.

I feel my feet dangle in the air for a brief moment when he swiftly lifts me on top of the copy machine. Then he seems to be everywhere simultaneously and this time it is very real. No dream, nope, and the way he holds me ensures that I don't fall off the machine. His demanding lips crash to mine, his tongue immediately probes deep inside when I willingly part my lips. My skirt seem to move up almost on its own accord and I couldn't care less when I hear the seam above the slit crack because it allows his hands to explore further up and that is all I want. His urgency excites me and I respond with the same. With my mouth latched his, I undo his shirt buttons fastest possible and push the shirt off his shoulders. I break the kiss for a moment to look at him. I will never tire of the sight of his well-cut chest, or of his eyes when they are dark with want and love. He doesn't allow the pause to last for long though. His hand has found the way to my damp heat and he impatiently move the lace panties aside and with his eyes still locked with mine push his fingers inside me. I moan and grab the curls at the nape of his neck, eager to pull him to me again but he resists.

"No, I want to look at you." He smiles that wicked smile which he saves only for me, in moments like this and I find I have nothing to object as he keeps touching me. I feel exposed under his intense gaze but in a way that arouses me beyond belief. I grasp around the edges of the copy machine and move my hips to meet his hand until I feel a relentless wave of roll through me. He sees it, he feels it and when I'm still trembling from it he swiftly unbuttons his pants, pushes them down, then slams into me. I wrap my legs around him and then we move as one until the poor copy machine is rocking and creaking. He smells so good. He feels so good, both outside and inside, but above all I love him to bits. Those feelings combined with the sexy forbidden sensation of getting it on in the copy room makes the pressure build up inside me a second time. We have since long forgotten the possibility that any lingering co-workers might pass by and hear us. I moan, he grunts, we scream out each other's name as we both reach the pinnacle.

We stay still like that. Spent, fulfilled and panting, without wanting to part yet. Joined but now relaxed. We stroke each other's backs with light fingertips and kiss again, gently this time. I almost feel like crying with happiness. Laughter bubbles up inside me.

"You sure knows how to see a girl off."

"I couldn't let you leave without trying out your fantasy. Mine is my desk ever since we almost… but as you are the one leaving I thought your fantasy takes precedence."

"That's very grand of you. I'm sure we can manage yours too at some point when I come to visit you at work."

"Perhaps we can."

He chuckles and this warm, glowing feeling fills me because I know he is just as happy as I am in this moment. It is a perfect moment even if I'm uncomfortably seated on a copy machine in a crammed, windowless room and my favourite skirt quite possibly is ruined, because I am with my favourite person in the world.

Almost as if he could read my mind, his smile gradually disappears and he looks at me with such serious intensity that it makes my skin prickle.

"Molly, you know that I love you…"

He pauses to tuck away a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I love you too."

I bury my fingers in his curls and prepare to kiss him but freeze when he continues.

"Will you marry me?"

"What?"

I didn't see that coming. Not here, not now on a freakin' copy machine with him between my legs. On the other hand I just thought that this moment was perfection.

He laughs, sounding slightly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I had this planned for dinner tonight, under slightly more romantic circumstances, but I just felt I _had_ to ask now. That's how I feel. I just want to be with you. Always. I'd love if you want to be my wife. What do you reckon?"

I am so stunned that I remain quiet even if I know the answer.

"I promise you will get a second proper proposal, with a ring and all, if that is what worries you but I…"

"Yes. A thousand times yes."

"You want to marry me?"

His smile is the widest I have ever seen. He leans his forehead to mine.

"I want that more than anything."

That is all I manage to say for now. My emotions are in such a happy turmoil that it cannot be expressed in words, but I know he knows.

We kiss again. For a long time, until I feel that my arse is going numb.

"I think I need to move now if I shall be able to walk at all."

"I knew I'm not small but I didn't think I would render you incapable of walking. That would be a first."

"I didn't mean…" Too late I notice the amused spark in his eyes.

"I know."

He laughs and gently puts me down, then glances at the machine.

"We probably broke it. I had better buy a new one at my own expense. Perhaps we should put this one at home? I mean I quite enjoy the things it inspires to."

I elbow him in the side.

"I think it would lose its appeal if we always had free access to it."

"I think you may be right."

With his arm around my shoulders we leave the copy room behind. I know it will always hold a special place in my heart from this day on. It used to have a place in my fantasies, but I don't need those anymore as reality has exceeded them by far.

When we stand waiting for the lift, he carrying my cardboard box under one arm, holding my hand with the other, I glance back towards my empty desk one last time.

"Goodbye", I whisper and when there is a ping and the double doors open, I know that I am ready to take the leap and go.

* * *

**A/N: When you least expect it… there finally is an update.**

**Sorry for the long wait. **

**The thing is, I feel I have totally lost the connection with Molly and Charles. They no longer speak to me so to say, even if it sounds crazy that they ever did. I decided to write an epilogue to complete this story and I hope you enjoyed but it does not come as easy as it used to. Sadly, I think it is the end of my writing about Molly and Charles even if I constantly write other stories. **

**Thank You to all of you who have followed my Our Girl stories and supported me with your kind and lovely reviews. It has meant a lot to me!**

**Take care and stay safe,**

**xxx**


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